from which stars have we fallen
by faulty-expectations
Summary: In which Magdalena "Lena" Ruiz just wants to protect her best friend, Peter Parker, but can't stop getting sucked into the world of vigilantes, war criminals, and depressed heroes. I guess she didn't realize she had more in common with them than she thought. Starting in CA:CW and eventually working through IW, slow burn Steve/OC centric fic
1. Tutor Me

**Hi!**  
**This is my very first posted fanfic. I swear I've started around 10 of them over the years, but here we go! I'm excited.**  
**Lena has been in the back of my mind forever and it's nice to finally give life to her and her shenanigans. **

**Please let me know what you think. I hope to post a new chapter every Monday.**  
**It starts off kind of at the beginning of Civil War and then takes off from there. **

**Lead on brave readers!**  
**\- Emma**

"I swear to god Pete if you don't show up in the next 5 minutes I'm gonna rat your ass out to your aunt, don't push me Parker."

After leaving yet another voice message on Peter's cell, I struggled to shove my way through the throngs of businessmen and women trying to get through the station.

Maybe rush hour was a stupid time to set up a meet in Grand Central. We're both dumbasses.

The arched ceilings glinted with the setting sun. People ran here and there trying to get to their trains on time.

Hefting my backpack onto my shoulder once more, I grunted as a greasy looking guy ran by me recklessly enough to throw my bag off my shoulder, the bad then slammed into another lady's pinched face.  
Not even bothering to say sorry I continued to trudge along, getting more peeved every time someone so much as brushed my elbow.  
I darted through a hole in the rush and stood leaning against a pale wall right next to Shake Shack. The smell of greasy burgers and fries made my stomach churn even though I hadn't eaten since noon.

My class ended earlier than I expected. I guess I can give the kid some slack as to why he's not here yet.

I checked the time on my phone. Peter was only 5 minutes late...so far.

Teleportation really messes with your perception of time. Ever since I got 'powered up' I have never been late again.

Walking really just pisses me off when I know I can teleport, so it's not a shock that having to push through sweaty stock brokers just rubs me the wrong way.

Just when I was thinking of kicking off the wall and popping back home I saw the bobbing of Peter's head through a gap in the mob of people.

He stuck his hand out to wave and immediately smacked it into some tough looking guy in a gray suit. The man grunted, his sweaty bald head rounding around quickly. I don't think I had ever seen Peter duck faster than he did just then, the guy didn't even see what hit him.

Snickering, I shoved my arms through the straps of my backpack and meneuvered my way toward the teen.

"Pete, glad you could make it" I said, reaching up to ruffle his already tousled brown hair.

Batting my hand away Peter bouncing up on his tiptoes, trying to steer clear of the moving rove of people, "I'm only 7 minutes late this time! Ned made a mess in chem labs today and we both had to stay behind and clean it up, and had to apologize to the kid I kinda spilled web fluid on, which was actually really hilarious, he couldn't get his hands off this girl's-"

"Woah, okay Pete, I get it Ned's a lil' kooky, just give me a heads up next time, butterfingers." I yelled through the loud terminal hall "Why did you want to meet here anyways?"

Peter's gaze darted around the terminal before he crooked a finger in my direction and we both made our way down a more secluded hallway, only five or six guys in tailored suits jogged past us hoping to catch their train. Our shoes let out squeaking echoes on the polished tile.

Once Peter made sure nobody else was within earshot he tugged his backpack off his shoulders and unzipped it quickly, pulling out a severely crumpled piece of paper. Peter's hair was sticking up in the weirdest places, and his cheeks were dusted with a little pink from his excitement. His green hoodie was slipping on his shoulders and one of the strings looked like its been chewed on.

"Okay, so during lunch today I was talking to Gwen, and she said her dad, you know Captain Stacy, was talking to some buddies of his still down at the precinct and that they had busted these guys for selling some type of tech enhanced by the chitauri weapons they found after the whole alien wormhole thing a couple years ago, but that they hadn't found hardly any of the weapons on them when they were arrested because apparently, according to their source, they had way more weapons before when they were terrorizing people near Park ave. and 44th, and so since I thought 'Hey, Grand Central is near Park ave. and 44th' it just makes sense that they'd have their secret alien weapons base in some abandoned terminal in the station!" Peter caught his breath and finished his rant.

He smoothed out his crumpled sheet against his thigh and showed the somewhat detailed map of Grand Central. He had messily circled some terminals, which I assumed were older ones or ones that were currently unused.

I pinched my nose and took a deep breath. "So let me get this straight, you heard from your girlfriend" I rolled my eyes as Peter tried to grumble that Stacy wasn't his girlfriend "that some evil guys who might have had shifty alien weapons were arrested, and some other guy said those same guys had a massive weapons cache, and apparently they used to hit up Park and 44th near Grand Central but also there could literally be nothing here Peter, this is just a hunch dude! You dragged me here during rush hour for a hunch." I stated, slipping my bag back onto my shoulder. The strap was chafing against my shoulder and bumped a yellowing bruise that was covering the back of my arm.

This was a waste of time, I've got homework to do, and Nana was probably making dinner at home. I definitely didn't want to miss that. I shot Peter an obnoxious glare and then made to push off the wall and head home.

"Wait, Lena!" Peter yelled, grabbing hold of the edge of my dark sweater. " Come on, we could definitely at least check some of the abandoned terminals! Think about it, You wouldn't want some evil assholes to get away with their evil plan right? What happened to saving the little guys?"

Goddamn it Peter Parker.

Soffing, I pressed my palms hard into my eyes, not even wanting to think about the essay I have due tomorrow for class.

"Ugh, fine Peter, we'll just check each site and take a look around, see if there's any alien shit around, which I doubt there will be, and then I'm going home, I'm exhausted." I growled.

I yanked my backpack around to my front as Peter seemed to burst with excitement. Unzipping the bag I could see the wrinkled mess of my "suit" puddled at the bottom. I didn't bother to wash it since Peter and I went patrolling around Queens only two nights ago. Turning my neck too fast still sent a zing of pain through my back from that harsh landing I tried to pull with Pete. What can I say? I though it'd look cool.

"We gotta stop doing this so often, Pete. I swear the amount of times I tell my Nana that I'm tutoring you, she probably thinks you're dumber than a box of nails." I laugh. "Okay, go change into your 'spidey suit' and I'll meet you back out here in 5 minutes." I barely got three words out before Peter yanked his shirt up to reveal he was already wearing his suit. "Ugh, you dork."

The women's bathroom was further down the hallway and I made sure it was empty before locking myself into a disgusting looking stall.

Quickly I made work to kick off my jeans and beat up boots, only shuddering a bit at the stickiness left on my hand after I had to catch my balance on the stained wall. Yanking my sweater off, I pulled my suit out of my backpack.

The dark grey athletic shirt was a bit frayed on the edges, and the collar was definitely stretched out from too many hasty tugs to get it over my big head, but it held up. I pulled it down over my torso. Next I tugged on my favorite pair of stretchy yoga pants. Comfort is everything, especially when you're kicking were just a dark navy blue with a white stripe up the sides.

Blue is kinda my color.

I slicked my hair back in a tight ponytail, it wasn't that long in the first place so the end of the tail barely tickled the tops of ears. The dark brown waves made the angles of my face stand stark against the grey shirt.

Lacing up my scuffed running shoes, I tried to smooth my hair out again, rouge curls slipped out of the hair tie to lay on the nape of my neck.

I've always been cautious about looking at myself in the mirror in my gettup. It's unnerving. The bathroom mirror was cracked, and ran a ragged line right down through my chest, tapering off near my right thigh.

The woman that looked back at me only looked a bit like 22 year old Lena Ruiz.

Without the bandana covering the lower half of my face I could almost pretend I was just going out to the gym.

I pulled the crumpled bandana out of a pocket in my backpack and slowly tied it around my neck, pulling it slowly up to cover my mouth and nose. Only my eyes shone back at me in the mirror, and their normal brown seemed to darken to ebony in the shadowed bathroom.

Although Peter and I had been doing this for a bit over a year, the shift into the mask always left me with a shiver down my spine and a tightening in my gut. It has served as a reminder. Bandana goes on, and danger is near.

Making sure my other clothes were zipped in tight I stored my backpack behind the toilet and hoped nobody would steal it.

The hallway was dim when I exited the bathroom, it seemed the sun had finally set in New York City. I could clearly see Peter shifting nervously in a dark corner down below. He already had his suit on, I still don't understand how he can see out of those weird goggles he wears. At least my stuff isn't brightly colored like a piñata.

Shaking my head, I made sure Peter couldn't see what I was doing, looked around the hallway for stray train goers, and then opened a portal to my right.

I held my hands out in front of my body and then made a jerked motion, like I was trying to zoom in on the terminal wall with my palms.

Before me the air started to crackle and a shot of blue shined and reflected off the dull walls until the portal opened into shape, and I could clearly see Peter through the hole shifting back and forth, looking for me over his shoulder.

My grin spread into a full out smile as I thrust my arm into the opening and grabbed Peter by the back of the shirt and yanked him toward me. He let out a gurgled yelp and then stumbled over his feet as he appeared right in front of me.

I could only laugh at his annoyed shouts as he waved his arms back and forth like he was trying to convince himself not to throttle me.

"How many times have I told you not to yank me through your freaky time void without letting me know first. I think I peed a little." He pulled his mask up over his nose so he could heave in deep breaths and rested his forearms on his knees, his cheeks were a bright pink.

"Oh come on, you know you love it." Still laughing I slapped my arm over his hunched shoulders, and tugged him into a hug "You should've seen your face though, it never gets old."

Peter just humphed back at me and then straightened the mask over his face, he turned his back to me and crossed his arms in agitation.

"Look, I know you're technically older than me Lena, but sometime I wonder who's really the 'kid' here." I could see he wasn't mad, I'm pretty sure he was smiling under his spidey disguise. " I like popping through your portals when I know it's gonna happen, but not so much when I'm just pulled through the space time continuum." His foot stomp really made his point.

"Oh shush, what're these powers for if not to scare the shit out of people."

"I mean, you got me there." Peter replied.

We started walking down the tunnels. The air getting colder, light breezes ran through the hallways at random intervals, and the lights flickered off and on in some parts. Creepy.

Peter pulled out his crumpled map and attempted to straighten it over a bended knee.

"Ok, I'm thinking if you could just make a portal in each of these abandoned tunnels then we could just peep through and see if there are any illegal weapons caches, and then I'm thinking we just wing it from there."

"Um, Pete, I don't think I can just make a portal in a random tunnel from looking at a map." I stated, my voice was a bit muffled by the bandana, but I mean so was Peter's under the red ski mask.

"Why not?" Peter whined.

" If I can't see it, or haven't been there before I don't know what the destination should look like from this side." I tried to scratch an itch on my covered nose. "I could try... but the portal might just fizzle out, or we could jump through and end up floating in space which in hindsight might be pretty badass. I mean if you wanna risk it Pete, I hope you have a concrete plan for when you're falling through the void for eternity."

Peter sighed. "Is this why you never portal me to the top of Stark Tower when I ask?"

"Yeah, but also Stark's a dick so I wouldn't do it even if I could." I said.

"How would you know if Mr. Stark's a dick, it's not like you've ever met him!" Peter said indignantly. This conversation was like a broken record. Peter and his Avengers.

"Trust me kid, I just know, haven't you even been watching the news? If he knew about us he'd write us up on those accord things and give us straight to the government." I pulled the map from Peter and made to head toward the closest abandoned tunnel, but he crooked his hand around my elbow to hold me back. I almost thought I could get away with it, but Pete was always set on talking things through.

"I don't think he'd do that to us. What we're doing is important, Lena. Who else is going to protect these people, he wouldn't just lock us away, there'd be nobody left." Peter let go of my elbow, and rubbed his hand against the back of his neck. "Even if we were put on the government's radar I'd keep fighting, I'd keep going out at night with or without you because I believe in what we're doing. I thought you did too."

That stopped me short. My shoes made an odd squeak on the tiled floor.

"Pete, of course I want to help these people, our people, it's the only reason I agree to go out in this stupid outfit and fight these assholes alongside you, a 15 year old kid." I pulled my bandana off my face, hoping Peter can see exactly how earnest I was "My Nana and I have had a hard life ever since my parents died, but we've made do, if anything happened to her I wouldn't know how to go on living. I can only imagine how hurt and devastated other families are from the losses they've suffered and the hardships they've had to go through, anything I can do to help them I'm going to do it, believe me." I tucked a loose piece of hair behind my ear. " but listen Peter, Tony Stark has never been one of us. Sure, he could be a nice guy, he's got the funds to help whoever he wants at any given moment, but he couldn't possibly understand what we've had to go through to protect the people we love. Just think about your aunt and uncle, Pete, what has Tony Stark done to help them?"

Peter had by this point pulled off his mask, his face crumbled for a moment, "Lena, that's not fair. Mr. Stark works to save the big picture. He can't save everybody, not Uncle Ben, not your parents, all I can do, all we can do is make sure he's got help here on the ground. We can make sure nobody else goes through what we've had to in the last couple of years."

"I don't know Pete, does he even care that we're here on the ground? Or is he just concerned with his own problems? His only concern is the 'big picture' I'm not sure he'd be on our side if it ever came to it."

"So if you were one of them, one of the Avengers, you wouldn't sign the accords?" Peter asked. I should've known this was going to come up eventually. The bombing at the U.N. building was fresh on both of our minds it seems.

My hand tugged on the back of my pony tail, the bandana was becoming stifling"No Pete I wouldn't. If we signed those accords the government wouldn't let us save the little people, don't you see? They'd only send us out for the big shit, the world killers and manipulators, but then there'd be nobody there for us. Nobody there to stand between the death and killing in New York besides the cops, and they haven't been doing the most bang up job recently." I stated. "There'd be no way I'd ever tie myself to the jackasses in government and let them dictate who's important enough to save."

" But we're heroes Lena! We should be up there with the Avengers, up there saving the world with them. We could do it, both of us. At least by signing we'd have a voice at the table." Peter argued.

" A voice that would be snuffed out at every given moment! It's enough for me to be here on the ground, I don't have any urge to join their super group. I'm happy here looking out for my people and protecting my home. If they ever need us, If the people here are in serious trouble then yeah, I'd help out, but now? Now I'm good where I am. Maybe it's not enough for you, but that's not my problem, just don't drag me into it." It took a moment for me to realize that my fists were clenched tightly around Peter's map, after straightening it I could even make out crescent cuts and indents in the sheet from my own fingernails. "Just, forget it Pete, let's look around for the alien weapons and then call it a night."

It was tense between us. Although it was quiet in the station the air seemed to pulsate with the sound of our discomfort. We walked through the somewhat empty terminal halls and barely brushed shoulders but once, trying to keep far enough away from each other but also close by in case of trouble.

We had checked two abandoned halls that ended up being empty before Peter glanced at me and cleared his throat. His mask was still covering his face, but I thought I could make out pinched eyebrows and gnawed lip, or maybe that was just the impression he gave off.

I quirked an eyebrow at him as if to say, what is it now?

"I know that I-I lost Uncle Ben a year or two before you lost your parents, but when we met I was still really messed up from it, and I don't think I could've done it without you." Peter said, we had stopped in the hallway, our masks hiding our faces. "Look, I love you Lena, you're like my big sister and I'm pretty sure Aunt May considers you her second child anyway, but I hope we can still be friends."

"Peter you idiot, of course we're still friends." I shoved his shoulder hard "Hell, siblings fight, and we're basically brother and sister so we should expect it to happen. I love you a lot Pete, I guess I'm just trying to look out for you, but its okay for us to disagree on things, and its good that we can talk about it together. We're still good right?" I held out my hand.

I let out a grunt as Peter lunged into my arms, he had a tight grip around my torso, and his goggles bumped into my forehead harshly.

"Ouch Pete, ease up on the hug there buddy, your super strength is gonna snap my ribs." I laughed.

"Shut up and let me hug you, Ruiz."

"Oh it's Ruiz now, Parker?"

"Let's just go check one more hall and then head home, you're constant shouting is making my head hurt." Peter said, bouncing back after I shoved him off me. He reached out to poke me in the side, but I just chucked him in the hip and retightened my bandana.

We had quieted down to just echoed giggles. The station seemed completely empty now, I didn't even know if Peter knew where we were going. Suddenly, Peter shot a hand out to grab my arm.

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

A loud crash came from up ahead, and we watched as a guy stumbled through a hidden door in a shadowed alcove not far from us. He was swaying on his feet and held a smoking gun in one hand, his other reaching up to rub at his shoulder.

He hadn't even noticed us yet, "Hot damn! That thing has a kick. Chuck, come over here and try this shit out!." He shouted, and then propped the gun on his shoulder once more, taking aim at an unseen target through the mysterious doorway.

I clapped Peter on the back, "I guess your girlfriend was right afterall."

I could hear Peter yelling "She's not my girlfriend" as I took off down the hall. Making sure my ponytail was tight and my bandana secured I bounded through the door.

There were only five guys, all dressed in grubby construction vests and dust covered boots, three of them held massive firearms at their sides, while the other two were watching on, crumpled beer cans littered the floor.

This was gonna be fun.

"Hey dumbasses, didn't your mama ever tell you not to play with guns?" I propped a hip against the door frame and looked on as their mouths either hung open or screwed up in confusion.  
The loud guy with the smoking gun huffed "the fuck you doing here?"

"Hand over the guns and go sit in the corner pal if you know what's good for you."

That made a few of them laugh, but not one moved from their post. They all seemed pretty lax until I saw their mouths tighten further. Behind me, Peter strutted into the dim room, his lanky form easily commanding their attention.

"Guys, I'd listen to the lady, she's kinda got a temper." He said, crouching down onto his toes.

Again, not one of them moved. The loud one scratched at his beard with a free hand. Two of the guys to his left crumpled their beers cans and carelessly threw them over their shoulders to land in a pile behind them.

Nobody made a move until the big guy mustered a half-assed 'fuck it' and raised his gun toward us.

"Pete, web 'em up." and then he leapt into action.

Peter sprang off the floor and immediately landed an undercut to the main guy in front. His head shot back and blood sprayed from his mouth, specks landing on the garish orange of his vest. He staggered back and clutched a palm to his open mouth. He looked pretty pissed now. The moment the others registered their leader throwing his head back in pain, they split.

Two of them hefted up their guns and pointed them straight at me, probably thinking Peter was too hard a target to hit. And he was.

Peter jumped and dodged and zipped around the room on his webs. I think at one point a guy chucked a half drunk beer car at him.

Shifting my gaze to the tipsy guys before me, I widened my stance and held my hands out ready for anything.

"Come at me." I snarled.

The men sneered and then pulled their triggers, immediately the hall was filled with shot after shot, the noise ricocheting off the walls and making my head split, but the bullets were coming in waves. Their eyes were open in glee and one guy seemed to be chortling.

I thrust my hands out and watched as the electric blue of my portal blinded the dull orange tones of the cascading bullet fire.

The bullets disappeared through a portal right in front of me and came out through another portal behind the idiots with guns.

The sound was deafening and the bullets were splintering into the wall. Wood and tile flying everywhere.

"Peter you asshole, these are fucking machine guns, not alien tech!" I screamed over the noise.

Peter had already webbed up two of the guys, and they laid wriggling on the floor trying to get out of the sticky substance. One guys orange construction vest was even webbed shut over his beer belly.

Slinging a web out to latch onto the ceiling Peter swung around to get behind his last guy and yelled toward me as he flew over my head "Whatever, same thing!"

"Definitely not the same thing, Parker." I grumbled.

The idiots still continued to shoot toward my portal, not even attempting to inch to the side and hit me.

I closed the portal the same instant as I rolled to my left, I felt one stray bullet pass near my face but then I jerked to my knees and opened a portal directly under their feet.

The men let out surprised yelps and then fell through the floor.

A single machine gun clattered at my feet, and I kicked it to the side. Disgusting weapons.

Opening a portal on the ceiling I watched as the two men fell through, practically screaming their lungs off, it was pretty funny seeing one of the grown man clutch a machine gun to his chest like its a beloved teddy.

They flew through the air before falling straight through my portal on the ground again, and again, falling and falling.

They were getting faster every time. By the time they just made up an orange blur of motion, Peter thought it was time to let them go.

Peter and I stood snickering for another 30 seconds before I closed the two portals and watched as the two men slammed into the ground.

They both let out pained groans and then simply laid back defeated. The machine gun left ignored, but still clutched in the guy's hands.

The cops showed up not 10 minutes later and found them all webbed to the subway walls.

The cite was all but abandoned, and taped to the forehead of a large unconscious bearded man was a note reading - Sorry about the mess! From your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man and a little further down the page, in much messier handwriting read, Blaze was here too.

"Nice job, Spider-Man" I said, snagging the water bottle out of Peter's hand and taking a sip. Thankfully my backpack had not been stolen from the nasty station bathroom. I didn't bother to change, and Peter just wrestled his school clothes back on over his spider suit.

"Hey you were pretty good in there too Blaze." He laughed, snatching the bottle out of my hand and chugging it in one go.

We sat on the edge of the roof, watching as a couple people jogged in and out of Grand Central. Stark's tower loomed over us from where we were sitting. Resting my weight on my arms I could almost lean back enough to make out the massive shining "A" emblazoned on the eyesore.

"Hey, that's the only name that came to mind when you cornered me in an alley asking for deets on the new 'vigilante' in Queens." I said, knocking into his shoulder.

"Well, it holds up pretty well, Blaze is badass." Peter said, and then muttered "Blaze and Spider-Man partners in crime, rogue heroes fighting to save NYC." and then laughed when I said it sounded like an intro for our own tv show.

We sat in companionable silence before Peter's stomach growled so loud it probably scared off all the pigeons in our near vicinity. The night life was picking up. We should probably head back before people actually notice us sitting on the edge of Grand Central.

"Come on Pete, I'm sure my Nana's still up and waiting for us for dinner. The old bat never sleeps, and I still need to write my essay for tomorrow, I want to die."

Peter groaned "I love your Nana's cooking, I swear I only decided to adopt you as my superhero sidekick just for the after fight dinner."

"Oh fuck off, sidekick my ass, Parker" I laughed, and then opened a portal in front of us and shoved Peter through. This time he didn't even scream, I think he was expecting it.

I spared one more glance at the sparkling city lights before following Peter through and landing in my apartment.

Peter looked up at me in a disgruntled heap, seems he landed on the floor. I chuckled and then tossed my bag onto the dining table to my right.

I could hear Nana puttering in the kitchen already, and the whole place smelled fantastic.

Peter was still sitting on the floor, complaining and rubbing his butt when Nana entered the room.

"Ay, dios mio!" She yelled, clutching a hand to her chest in shock. "Why didn't you tell me you were home, Mija?"

I shrugged, "We just got home Nana."

She made a humming noise and then placed both hands on her hips. My Nana shot us an annoyed glance, but I think annoyed is her default whenever me and Peter are in the same room. "Oh so you decided to 'pop' in instead of using the door like a normal person, is that right?" She said.

Having Nana know about my powers was so much fun, she's never gone through one of my portals but secretly I think she wants to. We decided to keep Peter being Spider-Man out of it.

I never told her I go out to fight assholes with guns either. . She still thinks we go study or hang out, which is fine with me.

Although, she does know that Peter knows about my 'popping' as she calls it, so we can be pretty chill at home.

God, I think she almost had a heart attack the first time she saw me jump into a portal, she just happened to walk into the room at a very bad time.

"Nana, portaling is so much faster than walking, wouldn't you want us home sooner rather than later?" I smirked, and pulled Peter up by the straps on his backpack. He smiled sheepishly at my Nana. She saw through our crap instantly.

She pursed her lips. Her hair was loose about her shoulders in soft waves. She probably dyed it today because it was a rich dark brown, and she had a somewhat dirty apron tied around her waist.

"Well, you're both just in time for dinner." She said, not even blinking an eye when I pointed out that it was already 9:30 pm.

"Peter did you tell your Aunt that you were staying late to eat, does she even know where you are?" She asked.

"Uh, no I should probably give her a call, our... tutoring session went a bit late." Peter then scurried out of the room, looking for his cell in his backpack and barely caught himself when he tripped over the rug.

Nana still looked unconvinced, but ushered me into the kitchen to grab utensils and set the table. Everything was quiet except for the TV running in the other room, and the beans on the stove sizzling. She almost always had the tv on, the static and mumbled voices were a calming backing to the hustle of New York life.

I was setting the last plate when Nana set down her dish a bit too hard and soup sloshed out the side onto the light yellow tablecloth. The red Fideo turned the cloth into a dull sickly orange.

I quickly handed her a napkin, as she started mumbling under her breath, dabbing at the cloth carefully with the napkin, but the stain was one that would need a more intense fixing up.

After the mess was sopped up she shot me a glance, "Mijita, you were out tutoring you said?" Her eyes were on the table but I could tell she was paying very close attention to me, I simply gulped and nodded, "and you weren't out, say fighting, or making trouble, si?"

"No, not at all Nana."

She hummed again, "and you're not dragging Peter into your nighttime activities are you?"

"Nighttime activities?" I asked innocently. I attempted to distract myself by straightening the napkins, though none of them needed it. Peter's voice was softly muffled in the other room as he called Aunt May, he was retelling a doctored version of his and Ned's chemistry class fiasco today.

Finally she turned to me, an exasperated expression on her face, her ruby red lips tightened over her teeth in a straight line, "Magdalena Angélica Ruiz, you expect me to believe I don't know you're out crime fighting with that araña in the mask?"

I spluttered, and just then Peter walked back into the room. He stopped short when he noticed the budding tension, his eyes widened and made to back out as fast as possible. I shot him a glare suggesting if he moved another muscle, I'd hit him.

"Nana, Peter and I were just studying, I promise! _No soy una mentirosa_, Nana!" I pleaded, Peter nodded his head in support when she looked his way, a nervous twitch in his eye, but then his face immediately went back to panicked and uncomfortable when Nana looked back at me.

"I don't believe you, but I won't push it. Mija, many times you have come home smelling like metal and urine or maybe blood who knows, but I definitely don't think you're just 'tutoring'." She abruptly sits down at the table, and slowly Peter and I follow, the rickety chair sways under my weight "Hopefully you're not putting Peter in harms way." Nana looked at Peter while spooning soup into her mouth a troublesome gleam in her eyes. Peter gulped, and awkwardly spooned soup into his own bowl.

Maybe Nana knows a lot more than we both thought.

Peter and I just looked down at the table in silence. The scrape of my metal spoon against the bowl made me cringe.

Peter was tapping his fingers on the table, and looking anywhere but at my Nana.

The quiet dinner was too much for him, he continued to shovel soup into his mouth and then dab carefully at his mouth with the napkin. His wide eyes would swivel from watching me, and from watching my Nana, who had yet to take one taste of the fideo.

"Lena's, a great tutor Mrs. Ruiz, I finally got my grade up to a B in U.S. History, and still had time to make it to all my club meetings this week" he started to babble, but all of us could tell he was babbling out of nerves, which didn't help the matter at all.

He stopped with a yelp after my foot met his shin under the table. My eyes said 'shut up Peter' and he grimaced, and went on to tearing small chunks out of the napkin in his lap.

It was quite an awkward dinner.

By the time the clock hit 10:30 my eyes started to droop, I was exhausted. First from the spat with Peter, to dodging bullets and then the thing with Nana, I was ready for bed.

I walked Peter to the door and patted him a bit too hard on the back. The clicking of china was heard as Nana started to clear the table.

"Text me when you get home Pete, and don't do anything stupid on the way there." Somehow he always manages to get into stupid situations.

I give him a quick hug and peck on the cheek and then he jogged down the hall, pulling his backpack up his shoulder when it slipped, and yelled out a quick 'Buenos Noches' before disappearing around the corner. The door clicked shut softly.

Leaning my forehead against the cool wood of the door I sighed, and then turned back around to face Nana. She stood beside the cleared table, her hand settled against the wooden chair to her side.

Her eyes hold mine steadily. I met her halfway as we walked around the table toward each other. Her hand is arm against the inside of my elbow.

Her nails are always red, red and manicured and beautiful.

"Te quiero mucho, Mijita.I only worry, If you ever were injured doing whatever you do-" she stops, quickly clenching her eyes shut, and then continues " Just be safe, be careful. What you do is important and I'm so so proud, and I know your parents would be too."

She knows.

She knows me well enough to realize I'd never stop.

I simply pulled her into my arms, and rested my chin on her head. Nana smelled like fresh cut roses.

"Always, Nana, I'm always careful."

**spanish translation: **

**mija/mijita: my daughter**

**ay dios mio: oh my god**

**no soy una mentirosa: I'm not a liar**


	2. Troublemaker

"No, Nana they're never late, at least not without giving us a heads up." I say into the phone, I had it propped on my shoulder while I yanked the wheel to make a quick right turn toward Oscorp, the massive building was an impressive shadow over the entire neighborhood. I glanced at the coffee cup that toppled over on the passenger's seat as it dribbled cold coffee out the side. "It's already 8pm Nana, they got out at 5:30, something's weird. I'll be fine, I swiped an extra key card from Dad's desk and I'll just get in through the back entrance to the lab."

Nane fussed some more, her voice was static in my ear to the growing panic I could feel inside me. She kept saying to just come home and that she'll call the boss, ask what was keeping them so late, and that maybe they were held back for a meeting. I knew it was bullshit. Norman Osborn is a creep in every sense of the word, so I wouldn't trust him to give us the truth anyway. Better to check for myself.

"I'm almost there, the worst that could happen is that I get a parking ticket, I promise" I say through clenched teeth. It was cold out tonight, I think it rained earlier while I was in class.

The brightness of the red traffic light even agitated me.

I could hear Nana babbling into my ear but I was struggling to pull the key card out and park the car nearer to the building.

"Nana I've got to go, I'll call you back as soon as I find them." and then I ended the call, slipping the key card into my back pocket.

My parents had been working for Oscorp for at least the last 7 years. They started right after we made the move to New York. I was only 11 at the time, but their excitement was palpable in a way 11 year olds under stand adult excitement.

They both were really well known particle physicists back home, so they latched on to a job offer that would take both of them. And who didn't want to move to the Big Apple?

Oscorp was and has always been a massive ugly building in the heart of New York, you couldn't miss it.

I'd only been here a handful of times, mainly to watch demonstrations of projects my parents had worked on, or simply as part of a school tour group. It was always embarrassing running into my parents with the rest of the class. Dad would try to act all cool while Mom tried to meet all my friends.

Both of my parents worked in the experimental science lab area. They worked to understand the particle fusion of matter in respect to radiation and mutation...or something along those lines.

The building seemed empty from the front. The doors were tinted black, no way to see the entrance, or if there was anyone left inside.

I inched my way toward the back entrance, sliding behind dumpsters and shifty looking black vehicles.

Finally reaching the door I prayed that Dad's key card would get me in. It was simple, minimalistic. His name was etched on the side in a fancy script and there was only one barcode on the edge of one side.

I wiped it against my shirt once, trying to get the sweat off that had come from my shaking hands and then slipped it through the door reader.

It beeped once, twice, and then turned green and I shoved the heavy door open quickly. The door made a loud suction noise as it opened inwards.

The air felt sour. It was incredibly quiet. Doors and elevators lined the hallway. Lights were still on under some of the doors but the rest were just black voids leading to who knows what.

I crept along, keeping close to the walls. One hand on the key card in sweatshirt pocket and the other feeling its way across the damp wall.

As I turned the corner up ahead I saw movement under a lighted door. A shadow, no two shadows moving about in the room.

I heard muffled voices the closer I got to it.

The sign to the right read "Laboratory 1"

I wiped my sweaty palms on my thighs and put the key card back into my pocket. My hair was sticking to the back of my neck as I nervously looked down the hallways to my sides, just incase. I had nothing on me but my phone that damn key card.

If I could just get into the room without anybody noticing that would be ideal. Huffing out a deep breath, I bounced up and down a bit on the balls of my feet, shake the nerves away Lena come on.

I gradually pushed the door open until I could kind of see inside.

There were four men standing in the center of the room, and two figures kneeling on the ground. Lab equipment surrounded them on all sides, and two computers by a desk were slowly powering down in the low light of their nearby lamps.

The men's backs were to me. Muscular, hunched shoulders clad in what appeared to be tactical gear. I still couldn't really make out the figures on the floor. I saw bits of hair or the tail of a jacket through the sparse windows between the men, but nothing else.

One man in the room, he was different.

He was terrifying.

All poised grace, but with the subtle air of violence. Like a coiled snake watching through slitted eyes, waiting for the opportunity to strike.

His black hair was long, slicked back and making the sickly angles of his face stand out in stark contrast to the green of his eyes. He kept twisting and turning in front of the figures, I couldn't get a clear look at his face, only the side profile.

He wore a darkened suit, leather? and held nothing in his hands save a sharpened sceptre with the most hypnotic blue gem set in the head. He swung it back in forth in front of his body, the blue energy coming from the gem seemed to linger in the air after every pass.

The three other men were soldiers. Two standing at attention with handguns drawn, and the third further back, an arrow cocked in the string of his bow. All of them made of harsh lines and unforgiving blue eyes.

They really didn't want these guys on the ground to move did they?

None of them seemed to notice the open door, so I slipped inside, and crouched behind a silver plated lab table. I could lean outward to see just enough of the men.

What am I doing here, why did I enter the room in the first place? If these guys are dangerous, what if they found mom and dad, if anything; they would know.

The snake stalked back and forth in front of the two kneeling figures. I could hear a whimper come from one, high pitched maybe from a woman.

The green eyed man stopped pacing and placed the scepter down at his side.

" I have come to conquer this world. Bend and shape it to my will, create from it a prosperous land, with me at the reigns."

He paused, tilting his head to the side as if listening to something, I held my breath until he continued. "One of you could help me birth that world. Some of your kind are intellectually gifted, yes, and I've come to realize that I need that gift on my side, I'll show you the truth, give you the power, you need only ask." He swept his arms wide, as if telling them 'look, look at what I have to offer you.'

He speaks with such confidence, I'm ashamed to say I'm mesmerized. Enthralled with this man, this very dangerous man who has spelled out our doom and written the future of our subjugation.

I had the distinct feeling that he somehow knew I was there.

"We don't want any part of this, please sir let us leave this building in peace."

My breath caught, and I almost seemed to choke on nothing. Dad. That's dad's voice.

I inched closer, trying to see through the legs of these men who were holding my father, and what I could assume my mother too.

Straining around the edge of the table I could see their faces.

My dad looked brave. His hands clenched into fists, and his chin jutted out in the face of these men who were a trigger pull away from ending him. His shirt was askew but his glasses were perched neatly on his nose. My mother looked strong, scared but strong. Her hair was curling daintily around her ears, and her eyes were very wide but she looked calm considering the situation, although her left hand was tugging anxiously at her lab coat.

"You see, Mr. Ruiz, we've done the research, we have determined that both you and Mrs. Ruiz are incredibly gifted, you have lead this company into its success almost single handedly" The man stated.

Mom and Dad single handedly keeping Oscorp on top? Somehow I didn't really doubt it, both of them are brilliant.

Mom spoke out then, I could see her take a shuddering breath from here. "W-We just work behind the scenes, we do our job well, yes but we can't possibly be re-rewarded for just that. Just working"

The man turned his face and I could see a smile scarcely grace his lips from where I was hidden.

"Agent Barton, why did you recommend the Ruiz's for our cause?"

The man with the bow didn't even let his arrow droop while answering, his arm remained taught in position, his lips barely moving "Edmundo and Gloria Ruiz both worked to stabilize numeral chemical properties in order to enhance their experimentation parameters and also allow mass conduction into the observation of quantum particle studies concerning radiation. They would be able to greatly aid Selvig in his work, sir." Agent Barton looked robotic in his response, and his eyes shone an unnatural shade of blue. His body just as taught as the string on his bow.

"You see, we need your minds and experiences to help...stabilize a certain property I have come to possess." The green man said, stopping directly in front of my parents.

"And what if we don't want to work for you?" My dad asked.

The man smirked "I don't think you have a choice."

That caused my dad to slump down, lean more fully on his legs, I think he finally realized the position and danger he is in. and in that moment we made eye contact.

He froze. His mouth open, gaping in shock, but then quickly averted his eyes so as not to reveal my position to these dangerous men.

"Are you going to kill us if we refuse?"

The man stared down at my father, "Unfortunately I only require the services of one of you, I can't ferry you all away to safety, so one must die."

I could barely stifle my gasp. My hand flying up to clamp around my mouth. No no this can't happen. Fight him Dad!

My father's head hung in dismay, my mother clenching her eyes so tight I doubt even a tear could slip through. "and one of us will live?"

The green eyed man simply hummed in response.

I could hear my dad inhale and exhale a massive breath "Kill me then, take my wife, at least she will live."

I must have made some kind of noise because dad's head shot upward, his brown eyes locking on mine. The desperation and fear that he conveyed in a single glance shook me to the core.

My mother began to wail, "Edmundo you can't! Think of Magdalena, she needs you, I need you" and then she turned to the man "Please don't kill him, we have a daughter, she needs her father, don't do this."

The room echoed with her screams. My mother's hands raked through her tangled curls.

"Be grateful to your God that you may live to see another day"

The gem glistened under the dim light, it seemed to dance, it seemed alive, but then it's sharpened blade plunged through my father's chest.

His last dying exhale was heard through the lab like a violent gust of wind.

I can't breathe. I'm choking.

My mom wails.

The man steps over the body, and places his hand on the crown of my mother's head. Her body visibly shaking, from shock or fear I don't know.

"Hush now, everything will be okay." His finger curls around a single piece of hair, and then watches it fall limply.

For one horrible moment I think he's going to plunge the bloody sceptre through my mom as well, but he presses the tip of the blade over her heart.

My father's blood staining the edge of her white lab coat.

Her back arches and the electric unnatural blue from the gem seems to seep into her, spreading over her chest before staking claim in her eyes.

She stops shaking and rises to her feet almost instantly, not even glancing toward the dead body at her feet.

"Ah, , thank you for your cooperation." The man says, stepping back.

My mother does nothing but nod her head, "You're welcome sir."

The man turns away and turns toward me. Lurching away from the edge of the table I fall back panting in fear. I hear movement of the men standing down, and peak to make sure they are leaving, but a hand clamps its way harshly into my hair, pulling me up by the roots.

"Agent Barton, please allow to say goodbye to her daughter."

I gasp in pain as tears come to my eyes, and a hand holds me tight to a hard chest.

The archer's eyes are even more terrifying up close, he doesn't even look down at me. My head barely reaches his chin, and I can see the hard line of his jaw clenching and unclenching.

He drags me toward the man, my punches and kicks doing nothing to throw him off course.

He holds my wriggling body in front of him, my forearms clasped behind my back in his grip. My heart about ready to beat out my chest.

The man quickly searches my face, his eyes flitting down to notice my simple jeans and NYU pullover.

I spare him one disgusted glance before looking toward my mother. "Mom?" I ask, but she doesn't react at all. She stands like a statue, her glowing blue eyes stuck on the man in front of me.

The man grabs my chin in his hands, turning my face back and forth under his unforgiving gaze. I scrunched up my eyebrows and hoped my snarl was intimidating in any way, my eyes burning with their tears.

" you have a beautiful child." He said, tracing my jaw with the back of his hand.

"Thank you sir, Magdalena is a wonderful daughter, I'm sure she would follow you sir, if you only desire it."

The man laughed, his hands leaving my face.

I looked toward my mom in despair. What did he do to her?

The man hummed deep in the back of his throat. "I don't believe she would follow willingly, and it would be cruel for her king to throw her to the hands of my men, only to be used and defiled, she is nothing but a child...beautiful yes, but a child"

I shivered in disgust. Please don't mind control me, please just let me leave. Dad I need you. Please.

"I'm 18." I said. I turned my head to the side, not wanting to see the horrors before me. Dad's bloody chest, his mouth slanted open in pain.

The man smirked, " and I, young one, am over 1,000 years old." He moved back, sweeping the room in disinterest.

"Sir, we've been here long enough, SHIELD is still tailing us." Barton said.

The man nodded.

Suddenly Barton threw me at the man's feet. My elbows clanging painfully on the hard ground.

My hands scrambled to hold up my weight but I stopped short when the green eyed man leveled the sceptre toward my face. It's glow illuminating the shadowed sickness flowing in his eyes.

"Goodbye, child."

I scarcely heard myself scream"Mom!" before a powerful blast hit me in the chest and then everything exploded in an electric blue before abruptly shifting to nothing.

Nana said I was hospitalized for two weeks after they found Dad and I in that Oscorp lab.

Dad was dead, they thought I was too at first, but then I guess my just heart wouldn't quit. I think Nana prayed over my unconscious form every day for the entirety of it.

Mom was gone, it wasn't until her body was found in an abandoned warehouse in Germany that we finally had some semblance of closure. I knew after the man took her that she'd never return to us, I just knew it. She;s buried next to Dad.

And Nana and I have been struggling ever since. The hospital bills really kicked our asses, but we made do, like we always have. Like she says, The Ruiz's never back down from a challenge.

Well at least that's what she told me when she walked into my hospital room to see me fall sleepily through an open hole in the ground. I made it back to the room in time before she screamed bloody murder, but still it was traumatizing. Maybe the blast from the scepter awakened some weird dormant mutation, or maybe I'm just lucky that way, but it's never been the same since.

Nana and I both were freaked out that's for sure.

Both of us had reoccurring dreams since then, Nana of the giant portal in the sky raining aliens, and I of violent green eyes and electric blue. I'm not quite sure if my dreams nowadays are more flashbacks or nightmares. Every other night it seems I'm thrown back into that lab, the blows hitting harder after every night.

This morning was no different. I gasped loudly, shooting out of my bed. I guess Nana was already up because she raced into my room, her hand quickly wiping my tangled hair from my sweaty forehead.

" Fue una pesadilla niña, no te preocupes." She whispered, her breath smelled like coffee.

It was already 2pm by the time I got out of the apartment. I'd already missed class this morning so I didn't see the point of going all the way to campus just to turn in a shitty essay I wrote thirty minutes ago.

Queens is beautiful in the afternoon, there's none of the hectic morning rush, and it's just before rush hour and after lunchtime. 2pm is perfect, trust me.

I could feel the anxiety building in my chest everytime I thought of the dream, so the cool air outside helped clear my head. Tree canopies and dog walkers make all the difference.

There's a really great deli down on the corner I planned to stop by, Peter and I love to go for subs before our nightly 'tutoring' sessions.

Peter and I are practically neighbors too which I love. I could just pop into his room whenever, but he gets pretty peeved everytime I pop in just to see him shirtless in front of the mirror practicing his webbing styles. I say it's dorky but really it's adorable. I love the kid. Once he was so startled he hurled his entire webshooter at my face, not the webs, but the shooter , hilarious.

We met in the best way possible too. I guess he'd just got his powers, and I'd just started my 'patrolling' of the neighborhoods because we literally ran into each other trying to catch the same bike thief.

He gets embarrassed everytime I mention the way his voice squeaked in alarm when I portaled in front of him the first time. He kinda just yelped "Wha-Who the hell are you?" and then I had to come up with a name super quick. I still think Blaze is way better than Spider-Man though.

He acted as if me portalling was a lot freakier than him walking on walls , but it's whatever.

I pushed open the door to the deli, the jingle rousing the sleeping cat near the window. Ah the smell of Mountain Dew and pickles.

"Hey !" I yelled, sweeping through the grocery aisles, "Did you move all the stuff? Where are all the snacks?" I called out.

was a really kind man, he always opened the deli early for all the school kids running by to pick up something to eat on their way to class.

Currently, he was hefting a pack of coke through the back door. "We just got a new shipment, Lena. Just give me a minute and I'll bring out all the merchandise, one's subs free if you help shelve 'em!"

Together we packed bags of chips and trail mix onto the shelves, we took a break after hefting the rest of the drinks through the back door and towards the coolers in the back. My hands were dusty from the old boxes and let smudges on my pants, but that's okay.

waved his hand as I tried to pry open a pack of Pepsi. "Leave it, I'll get the boys to do it later, I gotta pay them to do something you know." He laughs. "Now, what can I get you, Mija?" The grey in his beard really brought out his eyes, maybe Nana should visit him more often.

"Can I just get two number 5's and one number 7?" The cat had jumped from the window ledge and was winding its way between my calves, "Oh, and on the number 5's can you add pickles? And sm-"

"Yeah, smush it down real flat." He said, already starting to make the order. " You're still babysitting Peter for his Aunt?"

I snickered, sent me a wink over the top of the counter. "You could say that yeah, more like he's babysitting me so I don't flunk out of NYU in my last semester."

"School's not treating you well?" He asked, wrapping up the first sub.

I winced, I shouldn't have ditched class today "It's complicated, It's like I'm so close to graduation that I can't really put in 100%, like I want to leave but also what the hell am I going to do after it's over?" My fingers caught on the frayed edges of my wallet, trying to pull out a $20 I had stashed somewhere in there.

had finished up the last sub and was bagging them for me when he sighed, "You'll figure it out, you're a smart kid, both of you are. There's no doubt you'll go on to do great things."

"Thanks, " I said, smiling, he waved away my $20 as thanks for helping him set up the store.

I was walking out the door when yelled out from behind the counter, " Dile a tu vieja que me visite, estoy solo! And tell that Parker to stay away from my daughter, he's a good kid but he's a troublemaker!"

I laughed all the way down the street.

Peter and Aunt May's apartment was only four blocks away from mine. Some nights we'd all get together for dinner, just to save the hassle of trying to cook every night. It was nice. The loud shouting of different conversations and Peter and I lobbing food over our dinner plates at each other until Nana got up and hit us with the broom. Good times.

Both May and my Nana think Peter and I met through a mentoring/tutoring program partnered with our schools and we're fine with that. We just say we really kicked it off over that first session on algebraic equations.

I didn't even bother to knock as I walked through the door into Peter's apartment. They always kept a spare key above the door anyway.

I could hear May puttering around in the kitchen. The apartment was cute, clean and totally homey, I loved it.

Bu this time I wrinkled my nose right when I closed the door, the whole place smelled kind of like a rotten prune.

I knocked my knuckles against the kitchen door frame,Aunt May was bent over trying to pull something out of the oven. "Hey May, I was in the neighborhood and brought Peter a sub for later, there's an extra in here too if you want it, I don't know if you'd like what Peter usually orders though." I said, hefting the bag of subs onto the counter.

May turned and tugged me into her arms. "Oh, Lena! You should have told me you were coming, I would've made more walnut loaf." She said.

Ah, that was the rank smell.

"Uh, that's okay May, I got myself a sandwich too, just thought I'd wait up for Peter to get home." I said, the clock on the oven read 2:45, Peter should be home in the next half hour or so.

"He should be home soon. I had to drag him out of bed this morning, I guess you both were out late studying for his spanish test on Friday." She said, turning around and looking for a plate to display her loaf. The cabinets were packed with mismatched mugs and dishes.

I laughed awkwardly. "Yeah, he mentioned wanting to go over it a bit, but really we just hung out."

She shot me a smile over the top of her glasses. "I know, Peter treats you like an annoying older sister, so I'm not really sure how much studying you guys get up to anyway."

"Hey we usually get a bit of studying done in there, but he's like my much younger annoying brother too, and yet I still love him to death."

May just smiled, squeezing my shoulder affectionately as she sat down at the kitchen table, her loaf placed cut in front of her.

"Lena, come sit down. At least eat the sub you brought." She said.

I dug into the sandwich, god bless , these truly are the best in Queens.

We sat together in silence for a couple moments before May spoke up, "How's your Grandma doing? Are you still enjoying your classes, I can't believe graduation's just around the corner!"

Swallowing down a bite quickly I tried to respond, I think I have mustard on my chin. "Yeah she's good, keeps asking about you too, we should all get together for dinner again sometime soon." I smiled, tugging a napkin onto my lap "I'm excited to graduate, hopefully I figure out something to do after"

"Oh honey you will, don't worry, I'm sure there's loads of internships in the city, or even jobs opening up for aspiring young women like you." May said kindly.

"I know, its just I don't know if I'm doing what my parents would have wanted me to do. I'm getting a degree in something so far away from science it's laughable, and I-It's just I don't know if they'd be happy with the choice." I muttered, clenching the used napkin between my nails.

"You're parents would be proud of you no matter what. They wouldn't want you to do anything that made you unhappy, Lena" May said, scooting her chair closer to me around the table, her hand reached for mine "Just because your parents were successful in what they did doesn't mean you need to follow in their footsteps."

"I know that now, and I really do love the degree I chose, but it's just nagging in the back of my head, like what would they say about it, what advice would they give, you know?" I grabbed May's hand in between mine, "I don't think I could ever step foot in a science lab again anyway, not after that night." May clasped my hands even harder, I could barely look her in the eye.

"You know...Peter never goes down the street anymore, the street where they found Ben...ever since he died Peter just goes around the block, he shrugs it off like it's nothing, but its still there, I can see it in his eyes." May wipes a finger under her eye, her glasses fogging up a little bit, "Lena, I'm so so happy you and Peter have found each other, and I know I can trust you to look after him, but he's also there for you, you both have gone through horrible losses in the past years, and it has changed you both I'm sure. Your parents would be proud of the strong, intelligent woman they raised, no matter what."

When my chin began to wobble May held my head to her chest, her hand rubbing against my back. I could feel the change in her breather after every inhale and exhale, it was calming in the best way.

I'm so grateful to have her in my life.

After I had calmed down a bit more May let go of me, and my back ached a bit from leaning in such an uncomfortable position against her.

"Why don't we turn on the TV for a bit while we wait for Peter." Thankfully May left her stinky baked loaf in the kitchen as we shuffled to the couch.

She flicked on the TV and I watched dumbfounded as a news anchor spoke rapidly over images of panicked destruction. Shoving the last of my sandwich in my mouth I put my attention on the bottle blonde reporter.

I grabbed the remote to turn up the volume.

The news anchor was speaking quickly, her hand to her ear trying to relay whatever her on site person was saying.

On the shaky video footage there were hundreds of people running to evacuate some building, police were at the scene. Then they switched to what looked like a downed helicopter, its blades whirring slowly against the side of a river.

There was smoke billowing from the scene of the crash.

"This is Breaking News- It seems that earlier today the Joint Counter Terrorist Center in Berlin, Germany was attacked. As of now, authorities are releasing little to no information regarding the attack or its aftermath. We have reason to believe that a high profile terrorist prisoner had escaped and set a rampage through the facility. Both, Tony Stark and Natasha Romanov were thought to be on site to apprehend the prisoner. There is so way to know if the assumed terrorist was indeed James Buchanan Barnes, The Winter Soldier, culpable for the Vienna UN Bombings earlier this week, but many believe this to be the case. Some civilians say they witnessed Captain America aiding or chasing the fugitive in Berlin, closely followed by two other unidentified figures. Stand by for further information regarding the attack at the Joint Counter Terrorist Center that occurred earlier today." The image then switched over to what looked like a demolished tunnel, cars backed up for miles trying to get through the rubble. People could be seen standing outside their cars, yelling at each other and probably honking non stop, what a nightmare.

"Oh how horrible" May said "I hope nobody was hurt."

I just nodded in aggreement.

I wonder how much of it is true. I mean really, we don't know these people, these heroes.

Yeah Captain America could've been chasing or aiding this "fugitive" but who even said he was a fugitive in the first place, and why was Stark there to pacify a prisoner if it's technically the governments problem?

I just don't think we have all the facts. The bombings put off the Sokovia Accords by what, a day? And still Stark is their poster boy. I don't think Captain America was even going to show up to the signing anyway. It wouldn't surprise me in the least, from what I've learned about him, Roger's would never sign.

Just that little bit of information makes me trust him a whole lot more than I trust Stark, so who really knows who's in the wrong.

May was babbling away about the accords and the violence on television these days when the doorbell rang.

She got up off the couch, waving her hand at me not to bother getting up, it was probably just a neighbor asking for something again.

Her easy grin slid away as she looked through the peephole.

"May who is it?" I asked, I stood up by the edge of the couch. My hands tied into the blanket tossed on the back.

It was a man at the door, he was barely an inch or two taller than May, she stepped aside and he swept into the apartment confidently, not even bothering with the pleasantries.

What the fuck.

"This is a gorgeous apartment, May, you said May right? Great name." Stark gazed around the room, his eyes briefly flicking from my position near the couch and back to May, I guess whatever he was looking for he didn't find it "Really cozy, it's got a homey type feel to it."

I think May was at a loss of words. Tony Stark was in her house.

She opened her mouth and then shut it again, "L-Lena, will you grab something to drink from the kitchen?" She asked.

I didn't take my eyes off of him as I backed into the kitchen. He didn't look great from what I could see. His suit immaculate yeah, but his face was beat. He had a vivid bruise under one eye and his eyes looked beet red. His hand twitching slightly at his side.

I grabbed two glasses of water and the plate of walnut loaf. Let's see you eat that Stark.

They were on the couch by the time I got back.

I placed the food and cups and then sat in an armchair on the side, my leg thrown over the arm.

May was still a bit starstruck. Stark simply grabbed his glass and took a sip, then checked the time on his sleek phone which he fished from his back pocket.

He looks older in person, more ragged around the edges than I imagined. His eyes flicked rapidly over the screen, reading who knows what.

I think he felt me staring at him because he met my gaze head on. His head tilted to the side a bit, he was sizing me up. He was unimpressed, but also confused. I don't think he anticipated me being here, I wasn't on the radar. Good.

He has brown eyes, like me.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, straight and to the point.

He quirked an eyebrow at me, and then winced slightly when it pulled on his injured cheek.

"And who might you be?" Stark asked, he placed his phone on his thigh and leaned back gingerly into the couch.

May jumped in, "This is Lena Ruiz, she's Peter's tutor and friend, she was just waiting for him to get back from school, he should be home any minute now."

Stark placed his glass back on the coffee table. He took in my tattered sweatshirt and beat up boots interestingly.

"Are you looking for Peter?" I asked.

"As a matter of fact I am, applied to a... foundation in my name and just happened to be chosen for a grant." He checked the time on his phone again.

"Oh how wonderful!" May said, clapping her hands, "He didn't mention he was applying for anything, did you help him with the application Lena?"

"Um, I don't think I did." I said, eyeing Stark suspiciously. What grant?

Not even looking up from his phone Stark said "It was pretty easy to apply, he probably didn't need your help for it"

What an asshole. Clicking my tongue against the back of my teeth, I stretch my arm against the back of the chair and stared at the side of his face as he gazed around the apartment.

"Did you get that black eye in Germany, Stark?" I asked.

He leveled me a flat look, narrowing his eyes in annoyance.

"I don't think that's any of your-"

"Lena, why would you-"

Both Stark and May spoke at the same time, but then were interrupted by the opening of the front door.

Peter trudged in, shucking his backpack off and readjusting his grip on what looked like an old DVD player, bobbing his head to some song he's listening to on his headphones.

"Hey, Aunt May!" he called out, he walked into the kitchen and I heard a little 'heck yeah', probably from when he saw the bag of subs I'd brought. Peter you idiot, get in here.

May smiled and called back "How was school today?"

Peter made his way into the living room, rummaging around in the bag of subs. "It was okay, there's this crazy car parked outside…"

He did a double take when he saw us on the couch and reached up to take out his headphones. His eyes blown wide and the subs left forgotten.

Stark turned, his 100 watt smile on full display "Oh, ."

"Um, what." Peter stuttered his eyes darting around before landing on me, not like I'd know any more about this than he did. "I-I'm Peter."

"Tony" Stark replied.

"What-What are you doing here?" Peter shot me a glance that screamed help me.

I piped up, scooting to the edge of the chair and resting my forearms against my thighs, "Apparently you applied for some kind of grant under Stark's name?"

Peter clearly had no idea what the hell I was talking about.

Stark just waved flippantly, he had a don't worry about it attitude going, "The September Foundation, you've been getting my emails, right? Well now we're in business."

"Um, yeah, okay, does this...grant have money or whatever involved?" Peter asked, his eyes glued to Stark. May was still trying to figure out what was going on too.

"Yeah, it's pretty well funded." he gestured to himself "Look who you're talking to."

"Peter, I wished you'd have told me" May says.

"Well I know how you like surprises.. So surprise?"

I snorted. Yeah we're all surprised here.

Stark shot me a quick glance and then stood, "Can I get 5 minutes with him?" Reaching his arms back to stretch, and then slip his phone back into his pocket.

"Actually I need to speak to Peter real quick, promise." I said, bolting out of my chair and tugging Peter out of the room.

"What the fuck was that?" I hissed.

Peter's eyes were wide "Tony Stark is in my apartment."

"Yeah I see that, but why is he in your apartment, and what is this shit about a grant?"

"I swear I didn't apply for anything, I wish I had though, did you apply for me?"

"No, why would I apply for you to work under Tony Stark of all people?"

Peter rubbed his eyes "I-I think I should hear him out, he's obviously here for a reason."

"Pete, he just came from some mysterious terrorist attack and his face looks like mashed hamburger, I saw it all on the news." I shook his arm.

"So? It's Tony Stark, Lena! And if he's offering cash why wouldn't I talk to him?"

"So you're gonna let him bribe you into doing whatever?" I whispered back.

"No of course not. Just give me a few minutes with him. Go home and I'll call you when he's gone, then portal over here and we can go over it okay?" Peter said, his eyes holding mine.

I sighed, "Fine, Peter, but just… be careful, I don't know. This is weird okay?" I hugged him close to my chest and then made my way out into the living room again.

Stark was struggling to get down a piece of the rancid walnut loaf.

"I'm heading out May, I'll tell Nana you say hi. Tell Peter to call me when your… visitor leaves." I grabbed my backpack and my half eaten sub and made for the door.

Stark was eyeing me from the couch. I raised my eyebrows, nodding my head in goodbye when I was stopped, "You and Parker.. you're close?" He asked.

"Yeah we are" I said, holding the door open, "We look out for each other."

The door slammed shut behind me.


	3. Worth It

"What do you mean you're going to Germany?" My phone clenched in my hand I paced the floor of my room, kicking up dirty clothes and discarded food wrappers. The laundry basket in the corner was dangerously overflowed and was looking more like the leaning tower of Pisa everyday.

I could hear Peter puttering about, it sounded like he was tossing things here and there and his breath was coming fast through the phone.

"I don't know, I- he-he told me he needed my help, Lena. He needs my help."

I stopped. Deep breath, I could feel a panicky sort of flutter starting in my stomach.

"Needs your help doing what Peter? What happened to the grant, the special foundation you 'applied' for?" I asked harshly.

Peter huffed out a sigh "There's no grant, or foundation, or maybe there is but that's not why he showed up at the apartment. knew who I was, Lena. He just pulled up a video of me stopping a car with my bare hands and-and knew, he knew that I was out saving people, and he, he just wanted to make sure I was doing it for the right reasons, make sure he could trust me to be on his team."

This is so bad, so much worse than I thought it was going to be. "He knew who you were? Like he knew about Spider-Man?" I plopped down on my bed, the springs squeaking loudly under my weight. " Peter! Now what is he gonna do? You don't show up to Germany so he gives your name to the Feds?" I pinched my nose and looked down, I think my big toe was starting to make a frayed hole through my shoe. "And what about school?"

"School can wait. Look, Lena, is having a guy pick me up in half an hour to go to the airport and I really need to pack and figure out something to tell Aunt May. I promise you I'll call you on the plane."

"Fine, Pete if you wanna pack I'll come over and lend a hand, it's the least I can do." Not giving Peter a chance to respond I end the call, throwing my phone onto the unmade bed behind me.

This is ridiculous. My door slams against the wall as I stalk through the frame, Nana is in the TV room, a program on low as she works on a crossword.

The room is neat, as if no one really lives in it at all. Nana always sits curled up in her blue chair, the TV angled toward her right, and a window with the blinds halfway up to her left.

She doesn't even glance toward me when I crash into the space.

"Nana, I'm going to Peter's, he's being an idiot and needs my help."

She just waves her hand at me calmly and adjusts her glasses perched precariously on her nose.

A jean jacket is haphazardly tossed onto my body and then I rip a portal into existence in the middle of the living room.

Through the body sized hole I can see Peter furiously throwing clothes and knickknacks into his backpack.

He glances at the portal swiftly but neither does he stop packing, nor moving around.

With a backwards glance I see Nana waving to Peter animatedly, and he quickly smiles back before the hole closes on the scene.

He continues to pack, zipping around the room, his eyes sweeping the floor quickly.

"Pete, calm down we gotta talk about this."

Rummaging through a drawer he pulls out a pair of socks and sniffs them before shoving them in the stuffed bag. "I'm going."

"You don't even know why Stark needs your help!" I yell. "How do you know you want to be a part of it?"

He pauses, looking at my over his shoulder. "I trust him, he asked me why I fight, and I guess he liked what he heard." Peter shrugged. "I told him the truth. I fight for the little guy, we both do Lena. When you've got powers like ours it's your job, because if we do nothing and then bad things happen...they happen because of us."

Shaking my head I grab Peter by the elbow and gently turn him away from the backpack "I agree with you, you know I do...it's just, people like Stark have agendas Pete, sure he may think he's looking out for the little guy but really what is he doing by-by exposing you and taking you away from your home?"

"He's giving me the chance to save bigger and better things, Lena!" Pete says, tugging his arm from my grasp. "I feel so much guilt everyday, I-I couldn't save Uncle Ben, I wasn't there in time, and now Tony freaking Stark shows up in my bedroom asking for help and you want me to say no?"

"And you think I don't feel that same guilt? I stood by while my fucking parents were murdered Pete, I didn't do anything!" I screamed. "They were taken from me because of one man with hidden agendas, they were just a pawn in the game, and now Stark wants to place you on the board! There's no going back from this once you make the decision, I hope you know that." I shake my head, my breath coming fast.

Peter doesn't meet my eye, his hands clenched around the strap of his backpack.

"I think it's time I'm put on the board, Lena. and if it's by my own choice then it shouldn't matter to you. can help, when I get back I'll have a foundation to build on! I could even be an Avenger after this!"

I scoff, "So that's what this is about? You just want to get in with Stark, line his pocket like the rest of those heroes he's collected."

"So what if I do?" he shoots back, "at least I'll be somebody, at least I'll be able to say I tried to make the world better, rather than just standing in the same fucking place and watching the world crumble under my feet! Don't you realize Lena that you preach looking out for the little people, but really you're just trying to bury your guilt and anger under a pile of lies. You've always told me to stay in Queens, fight only for the people here in our home , but so many more need saving! How is it right for you to tell me who I can and can't save? You're just a hypocrite!" Peter screamed, his chest heaving with every exclamation. "Going to Germany may be the wrong choice, but at least I'm doing something!"

Every point he made was like a punch to the gut. It made sense. His point of view. It hurt, but it made sense.

I gave him a moment to calm down. His back toward me as he clenched and unclenched his hands.

"Peter," I said softly. There was scarcely a sound in the room. "I-I just don't want to see you get hurt, I, Look I know you think you're doing the right thing, maybe in the long run you are. But Pete you're only 15, in what world is it okay for a grown man like Stark to ask a fucking highschool kid to help him do something dangerous, don't even try to deny this shit Pete, it's gonna be dangerous, you might not know what it is, or maybe you don't want to tell me but I just want you to be careful. I don't like Stark, you know that, but I'll tolerate him to this point if he's the one in charge of your safety, not just on the battlefield Pete but here too, he knows who you are now, and eventually other people will know too."

Peter says nothing. He reaches one hand up to run it through his disheveled hair.

He sighs, "You know, I think he knew you had powers too, or he knew something at least after meeting you. I-I denied everything don't worry, but how could he know about me and not know anything about you? He had pretty HD videos of Spider-Man, and I'm pretty sure I saw a shaky clip of you on there too" He said, turning to look me in the face, he smiled shyly "Maybe you scared him off earlier, I guess he didn't think he could convince you to come alone with us."

"What made you think he knew who I was?" I asked. The thought of Stark knowing such a secret about me made my palms sweat in a very uncomfortable way.

Peter shrugged, "He mentioned how it was nice that I had someone like you to lean on, that with how close we are it's good to have someone to watch your back when things get rough" Peter looked sheepish, " I told him I was grateful, because you've always been there for me through thick and thin, you'd beat the crap out of anybody who'd even look at me funny...which I guess could give your identity away a little bit… I think he just had a hunch the minute he met you honestly, he knew who I was...and then just connected the dots from what little he had on you"

I exhaled through my nose, closing my eyes briefly "Great, this is great, Stark knows, everybody knows, I'd better pack for when they come kidnap me and send me to mutant prison camp."

"Shut up, that's not gonna happen, anyway I'd bust you out the first night." Peter says.

I laugh, "Yeah you better."

Peter glances down at his phone. "Some guy named Happy is coming to pick me up soon, then we'll go to the airport from there...maybe it would be better if you head home, so Mr. Stark doesn't arrest you for assaulting his employee when they shove me into the limo." He grins.

In a rush of emotion I pull Peter into my arms. He's getting taller, my eyes only reach level to his nose now. We sway back and forth for a minute before Aunt May knocks on the bedroom door. "Peter, your ride is here!" she calls out.

He throws his bag over his shoulder, it looks about ready to burst. "I'm going to do this, Lena.. and I just hope I have your support. You can't make me stay, and I don't want to leave on bad terms." He looked so grave

I smile softly, "Of course, Peter. I know I can't stop you, but I just don't trust Stark. I trust you though, wholeheartedly."

He shoots me a grateful smile.

I stop him before he walks out the door, " Keep your phone on you at all times Parker, and just be careful alright? Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

He smirks, "Nice, then I can do practically anything I want."

"Shut up, I love you."

His laugh follows him out the door and he lazily calls back "Love you too!"

I'm not very good at the waiting game.

I knew that the flight to Germany would take around 8 hours, maybe less if Stark had his own private super jet, which I'm 98% sure he does.

I could tell Nana was getting tired of my fidgeting. I would pace the hall, checking my phone for another message every couple of minutes.

She finally got up and left saying she was going to 'visit' down at the deli. I doubt that she'll remember to bring me back a sub like I asked.

I wonder what Peter's doing right now. It's his first time on a plane too. God whoever's in charge of babysitting him must be about ready to drop him out the emergency hatch. Peter never shuts up when he gets excited.

He didn't call me when he got to the airport, but he did shoot me a quick message with his hotel details and a promise to keep me updated when he got to Germany.

It read - 'Lena, there's free drinks in the back of this car, that's how fancy it is. Also, Happy, chauffeur/bodyguard something or other, said we're staying at the Hotel Fürstenhoff in Leipzig, I hope I've got a giant room, what if there's a pool, how cool would that be. I'll text you when we touch down! -Pete.'

The dork. I googled the hotel and it does in fact have a pool and looks way too fancy for Peter to handle.

The sun had already gone down, and the constant worry was making my eyes droop. I laid down in my bed, my body aching when coming in contact with the soft mattress.

I'm so tired.

Come on, Lena stay awake, you gotta wait up for Peter.

Come on, come on, come on. Stay awake!

But my eyes didn't stay open for long.

" But I don't want you to move to New York!" I screamed. My mother was stretching up on her toes to reach the higher cabinets, she'd pull down dishes and mugs to pack in bubble wrap and then tuck them lightly into a large cardboard box on the counter. The side read 'Fragile' in bold black letters.

"Magdalena, cariña, your Dad and I were offered a very good position there. We're moving to make a better life for ourselves, better than we've ever had here, Mija." My mom said, her hair was pulled sloppily into a bun, and curls were beginning to fall around her ears.

Dad walked in through the garage door. He was carrying boxes too. His brow was lined in sweat, and his denim shirt clung to his back. It's a hot day to be outside hefting boxes.

The box made a loud clang as he set it down near the opening of the hall. He ran the back of his arm against his face, Mom handed him a glass of water when he came into the kitchen.

The continued to pack together. There went the plates, and the pans, and that one mug I chipped on Christmas three years ago, and the ugly china from my uncle, all packaged and gone.

Dad plucked magnets from the fridge. His hand hesitated when faced with the only photo on the fridge. It was taken almost five years ago, the edges were a bit waterlogged but it was still in good condition. Mom and Dad had their arms around me, Nana was there as well standing by mom, it was the first day of school.

I must have made a noise when Dad took it down because he turned to me, and saw my distressed face staring back.

"Que pasa, mi amor?" He asked, smoothing the hair away from my face, Mom had come to rub a soothing hand on my back "What has happened, Mija?"

Tear began to pool in my eyes and my chin wobbled dangerously. "Y-You can't take the picture too" I cried, snot running down onto my lip "How will I remember what you all look like when you go to New York?"

Both my parents threw back their heads to laugh. "Oh, Magdalena, darling, did you think all this time we were going to leave you behind?" My mother asked. They both had knelt down, reaching eye level with me.

I pouted "I-I don't know, mama. I thought you were going and I was staying." I wailed.

"No, cariña, we're all going to New York! Of course we wouldn't leave you behind!" Dad said, his warm hands on my shoulders.

A bead of sweat was running down his temple.

The chin wobbling stopped and yet the snot continued to run. "I'm going too? Even Nana?"

Mom nodded and sat, pulling me onto her lap, my head tucked gently under her chin.

"Of course, we would never leave you, Magdalena. Never."

Dad's hand had yet to leave my shoulder. Everything felt warm, safe.

"Family stays together, no matter what."

I offered them a wobbly smile.

After a few moments, Dad stood, then followed by Mom.

She offered a hand, and gave me a tissue.

"Para tus mocos." She chuckled when I hid my face. "Come help us Mija, and then we'll go to Nana's and see what she'll try to convince us to keep this time."

I stood and threw my arms around her.

"How are you gonna explain that one to May?" I snickered.

Peter and I sat on the edge of a nearby building, we could look down and watch as the police came and scooped up the assholes we had just dealt with.

Currently, said assholes were still bouncing on lines of webbing attached to the ceiling inside of the bank. Four unconscious and one guy awake looking like a caterpillar wiggling in its cocoon. I could barely make out the note we'd left on the open vault in the back.

The ledge we perched on gave a perfect view for the show that was about to go down.

I took a sip of water and watched as Peter dabbed gingerly at his split lip.

Thankfully it had stopped bleeding, but the bottom half of his face was a bit puffy.

Peter glared my way,"Maybe she won't notice?"

I scoffed, May not noticing Peter's lip would be like waking up and not noticing that the sun was actually neon pink.

"Shut up, like your grandma won't notice your massive black eye." Peter shot back.

I mean he's got a point there.

"Oh? The black eye I wouldn't have gotten if you could just stop getting punched in the face every once in a while? That one?" I tossed the water bottle his way, and he caught it in one hand.

Peter shrugged, "Well, nobody asked you to flip out and go all hulk when some guy clipped me in the lip, honestly I was shocked that jerk got a hit in, good for him, God knows I've been trying for years." He laughed.

"Fuck off, Parker." He laughed again as I shoved his shoulder with mine. "Ow, don't make me laugh my face hurts." Hopefully his lip didn't start bleeding again, its been going on and off for a while.

"You try not flipping your shit when a literal child gets punched in the face not two feet from you." I said.

"I'm 15, Lena."

"Case and point, Parker."

"Whatever."

The cops had finally shown up. They took a couple minutes to gape and point at the suspended figures in the bank, but I guess they were pretty used to our stuff by now to just roll with it.

We watched in silence as they loaded them into the cop cars.

The phone in my back pocket vibrated, but I ignored it. "Hey, Pete, you know we've been doing this for almost a year now?" I asked.

He sighed, looking out to the city, "Yeah...I can't believe it. I feel like I've been doing it all my life." He paused. "Do you regret it, coming out with me? You could've walked off the first night we met, but you kept coming back. I-I don't regret any of it."

Oh Pete. His face was flushed a bit and yet he kept his face stoically toward the cops driving away before us.

"I don't regret a single moment of it." I said. He turned to meet my eye and his face split into a smile, my eyes crinkling when I smiled back.

"Owwww." We both groaned. My eye was really starting to swell up, and it looks like Peter's lip had started bleeding. He just continued to dap at it with the edge of his suit. Red on Red.

"Lena, if you-do you- you can stop anytime, if you want to that is. I-I can do it on my own, if you want to stop." Peter looked brave. His eyes held mine steadily, and reflected the retreating lights of the police cars. Red and Blue sparking in his irises.

"As long as you're doing it Pete, I'll never stop." I said, "Family stays together, no matter what."

Peter's mouth went slack for a moment, his eyebrows arching into his hair. "Family?" he whispered.

Tears pricked in my eyes. I love this kid so much, so damn much what wouldn't I do for him?

"Yeah, family."

I could only let out a surprised squeak as Peter crushed me in his arms.

With his super strength I knew he could easily break me in half.

Oh well, cracking a rib or two would be worth it, anything for family.

"Family." I gasped.

Surging up in my bed, the sheets tangled at my feet and I fell to the ground in a disgruntled heap.

I kicked my feet aggressively trying to get untwisted.

The sun was up! What time was it?

Running my hands quickly over my bed and under it, my phone was nowhere to be seen.

I slid down the hall, my feet sliding on the wooden floors.

"NANA!" I shrieked. "Where's my phone?"

She stood calmly at the stove, her apron wrapped tightly around her waist.

Paying me no mind, she continued to stir the eggs in her pan.

I reached up to tug on my hair in panic, wincing as I tugged too hard on the roots.

"Nana, please where's my phone?" I asked, as calmly as possible.

She simply hummed in response, "I had a very nice evening with . We talked and talked, did you know his family grew up not three miles from ours, how -"

"NANA!" I yelled, "Please, it's important. It's about Peter."

She turned, untied her apron, and reached to turn down the burner on the stove.

"I put it to charge in the living room, it kept beeping and buzzing I thought surely it would wake you up, so I moved it so you could sleep, Mija." She barely got two words out before I was sprinting out of the room.

My phone was fully charged and sitting on a side table. I quickly swiped it open.

Three missed calls from Peter, and four texts.

Exhaling through my nose, I opened the texts first.

Lena! I'm in Germany! So far so good, the hotel is sick! Happy says I have a whole room to myself. Call me back!

Are you asleep?

Ohhh, its 3am in New York. Sorry about the calls. I miss you!

And the last message

I sent you a video. Watch it! We're leaving soon for 's 'errand', which is what Happy keeps calling it. I'm so nervous I might puke in the mask. Call me when you get this! (watch the video first)

The last text was only sent 34 minutes ago!

At least I knew Peter got there in one piece. Honestly that made a lot of the panic disappear.

Sitting down on the couch, I pulled open the video file

Peter's face filled the frame.

His hair was horribly messy and he had a couple bags under his eyes, but otherwise he looked great.

The video started off shaky. Peter basically gave a tour of the entire room, which was super fancy. Way more than what a 15 year old needs.

He'd keep flipping from his face, either he stood there with a gaping mouth or a smile, and then switched it to point at something and say 'Look at this thing!"

Pretty sure he jumped out the window and stood on the side of the building just to get a shot of how close the pool is to his hotel room. Oh Pete.

Once the tour was over he walked over to a living space. The camera pointed at a solid silver case sitting on the table.

Peter briefly showed his face, 'Watch this.'

Pressing a hidden button on the side the case flew open to reveal a red...suit?

It was hard to get a good look at it, Peter kept zooming in and out, chanting a consistent "look at it, Lena" , I'm definitely looking Peter.

He switched the camera to his face, " made me a suit!" He gushed, "It's so badass, Lena. I wish you could see it. It actually has cool goggles that don't dig into my eyeballs, and there's a spider, and webs, and it's so comfortable, which is pretty nice because,yeah. Although it is pretty tight. Oh my god what if I get a wedgie while fighting bad guys. Do you know how embarrassing that would be." Peter grabbed it out of the case and made sure to get every angle on film.

It is a super cool suit, I can admit that.

"Oh! And look, I think made you a suit too!"

What.

Tony Stark made me a suit?

"I guess he thought he was gonna find both of us and get us to come to Germany. Imagine me and you in these super suits, wouldn't we look so badass." Peter lugged out a second case from under the table. It was the same size, and sleek grey.

He pressed the hidden button and the case swished open.

Holy shit. Inside was all dark blue beauty and accented shots of electric blue. It was sleek. It looked soft, and yet so strong. It looked amazing, even for being Stark tech.

Accented with electricity down the arms and legs and up the collar the suit looked dangerous . The rest was midnight blue, gorgeous. Secretly, I loved it.

Peter was still going on about how much he loves both the suits, and even went to hold up his next to mine.

I'm already calling it mine, Jesus, Lena.

"Maybe I can swipe it for you on the way home." Peter said. He made sure everything was all packed up and then closed the case. The blue fabric disappearing behind the grey box it sat in.

Peter talked a bit more about the hotel, and his suit and then responded to a muffled voice from somewhere else. I'm guessing it was that Happy guy.

He flipped the camera to face him fully.

"Okay, I guess it's time to suit up." He looked nervous, excited but nervous. "I-I'll call you when it's over. Just know that I'm gonna do my best. said that I have to fight Captain America, I guess he's gone crazy or something. I...don't really know what to feel about that, but I'm gonna help any way I can." Peter gulped.

No, Pete don't go. You're really going to fight Captain America? And what? Just because Stark snaps his fingers and says 'go'.

"I know you don't really approve of this whole thing, but hopefully you get this video long after it's over." His eyebrows were furrowed, and he looked nervously over his shoulder as there was another muffled sound from the corridor.

"See you soon, Lena. Love you."

The video ended. It ended and stayed stuck on the last frame of Peter's face.

He didn't look ready. He looked confused. Maybe excited yeah, but also a bit afraid.

He shouldn't be there alone. Why did I let him go alone.

Stuffing the phone in my pocket I made my way to my bedroom, and shoved my dirty suit into my backpack once more.

I rushed to the kitchen, Nana was still by the stove.

"Nana, I've got to go. Peter needs my help."

She nodded and turned toward me, her arms held out for a hug.

"You go, take care of that boy. Don't let him get hurt." She said, embracing me "You both may be super heroes, but you still need help sometimes, especially from each other. Did you grab your suit?"

"Yeah, Nana I did-wait, what did you just say?" I gasped, holding her at arm's length so I could see her face.

She smirked, her red nails tapping against the side of her head "What? You think I'm stupid, una pendeja eh? You just confirmed my suspicions anyway." She patted me on the cheek. "Watch out for that little araña, and please be careful. Be home soon, I love you so much, Mija."

"Nana, I love you so much. I don't have time to freak out about any of this but, also thanks for understanding. I love you wow."

I gave her one last hug, and then stepped back.

Hefting the bag onto my shoulder, I checked the suit over one more time.

It was crumpled, and smelled terrible. You know what? Stark made a perfectly good suit for me . And dammit, I'm going to use it.

I tossed the bag onto the couch, and pulled out my phone.

Checking the pulled up image I stared at the outside of Peter's hotel, it was a clear view from the street.

God, please hope this works. I clenched my eyes shut and tried to picture exactly what the hotel looks like.

I swung my arms out in front of me and felt the air come alive. The raging of the portal warming my skin.

Glancing back quickly I smiled at Nana, she waved, and then I stepped into nothing.


	4. Choices

The hotel room was surprisingly much cleaner than I thought it was going to be.

Peter really did have a whole suite to himself. His backpack looked like it had exploded in the bedroom, clothes were hanging off the ceiling fan, and were strewn crazily over the TV and dresser.

Every door in the place was opened, honks and wheel screeches sounding through the fancy space. I quietly shut the sliding glass doors leading to the balcony.

If I left the mini fridge open just a smidge, well then tell Stark to put it on my tab. It looked like Peter grabbed all the chocolate out of it anyway.

Peter's silver case sat empty on the couch. The red suit gone.

Mine was still shoved under the coffee table. I hefted it onto the couch next to Peter's and ran my fingers over its smoothed edges. The latch hidden from sight, hidden among the sleek lines of the case.

I ran my fingers carefully over the sides, overtop and on the bottom. Aha. My thumb slid slightly into dented slant. With a big woosh it swung open.

The suit looked even better in person. The blue even more electric up close, and the darkness of the fabric made it look like I was swimming in a lightning storm.

It was incredibly soft, and seemed pliable. The material stretched around my hands as I pulled at it, was it bullet proof? No time to check anyway.

It went on like a loose onesie and then molded to me like a glove. The bright blue accents highlighted my collar bones, and honestly made my legs look freakishly long. Thanks, Stark.

I had to wear my own beat up boots with it, the scratched brown leather clashing with the expensive looking outfit.

Oh well. I guess footwear went beyond the Stark fashion brand.

Once I had the suit on, I looked through the rest of the open case. Caught inside was a smaller compartment. Inside sat a wadded up mess of dark fabric. The same midnight blue as the suit. And next to it a miniscule piece of tech. An earpiece? Ugh, do I want to have Stark speaking directly into my ear canal?

The dark fabric unfolded to reveal a mask. It resembled my bandana. Maybe Stark did catch me on video. The bandana and the blue matching my sizzling portals.

I pulled the mask over my head, and immediately it adhered to the neck of my suit. Magnets? Velcro? Who knows, but it blended seamlessly with the collar. Pulling it up over my mouth and nose I found it to be perfectly breathable. No more of the muffled voice and Batman-esque huskiness then. The fabric stretched and moved with every turn of my head.

With the mask on I made sure to avert my eyes from the many mirrors lining the walls. My hair swung loose, obscuring the sides of my vision in a haze of black shadows.

I think if I caught a glimpse of the chess piece Stark assembled me to be, I'd lose my nerve.

Oh yes. I knew that even putting the suit on was relinquishing a bit of control over to Stark. He already had Peter, and I'd be damned if I let Pete go it alone. In terms of chess, I'd think of myself as the queen anyway. Unpredictable, and incredibly valuable to have on your side.

Taking a last look around the room, I closed the empty silver case and turned the earpiece over in my hand. It was black, and maybe an inch larger than my thumbnail. No going back once I slide this in.

My phone, I placed on silent. I shot a quick text to Peter before I got to Germany that said something along the lines of I'm coming to pick you up from daycare. I'll be there soon. But I doubt he got it in time.

I stashed my phone in a hidden pocket by my thigh. Seriously the suit has pockets, straight from a wet dream if I do say so myself.

I juggled the earpiece and then placed it in my ear and tapped it once. Immediately voices started ringing out. It sounded like they were all standing right next to me, no static contaminating the line whatsoever.

"...the airport on lockdown. Evacuate all civilians. Don't give Ross the heads up until we have eyes on all of them. Barnes, Rogers, and Wilson top our most wanted list." Stark's voice was hard. I thought I could hear engines whirring in the background. I guess Iron Man was ready for action. "Ideally we'd rack up Wanda and Clint before it all goes to shit."

Barnes. Where do I know that name from.

"You really think you'll get Cap to stand down?" A man piped in. He sounded anxious, but not out of nerves more out of being wound up tight and waiting for the snap. "Why not just wrap it up nice and quick, grab Barnes, Rogers, and Wilson, send Ross in, and then ferry Wanda away back to the facility. Vision could do it, we could get Clint back on house arrest, like nothing. Ross doesn't even know they're involved at this point."

I could hear Stark sigh "It'd be too easy that way. And not to mention if I even touched a hair on Barnes' head without Rogers' go ahead there'd be hell to pay. No, we give them a chance. Clint, Wilson, Wanda, they chose their beds, and now they're gonna lay in them."

"Tony, just, really give them a chance to stand down." A woman this time. Her voice calm and collected "Make sure you get across what's really at stake here. Rogers isn't stupid. He'll know what you're implying, but at least give all of them a chance to back out."

"I agree with Miss Romanoff," Holy shit Natasha Romanoff is in my ear, "Captain Rogers will see reason if given the opportunity to do so." Again, an unknown man spoke. A British man?

"I'll try," Stark said, "We're on a deadline here people, there's only so much I can do before Ross shows up with his goons." Armor clinked, hollow footsteps sounding through the earpiece "If it comes down to it, and it is us versus them, well then, step up and do your job."

There was silence from the other side. A beat, maybe two.

"Tony, we're with you on this."

"Good."

Airport, they're at the airport. Come on Lena! The fight hasn't started there's still time to catch them. Is Peter even there? I didn't hear his squeaky voice pipe up in the conversation, but on second thought I wouldn't have said anything either.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone. Shit, has my data been on roaming this whole time? There goes hundreds of dollars down the drain, one more thing to worry about.

I'm here, there's no going back now.

And the closest airport was almost two hours away, fantastic.

What to do. What do I do now?

Okay, calm down I can do this. I got to Germany didn't I?

I pulled up a picture of the airport. It looked doable, normal terminals, normal airplanes. Let's just hope I don't end up at like LaGuardia, that would suck. Okay, here goes nothing.

Slipping my phone back into my pocket, I clenched my eyes and focused on the airport.

Ripping a portal into existence. I didn't even glance at it before stepping through.

The static of the portal felt off, uncomfortable, but just left me with a bit of an 'I've definitely got too much static electricity in my body' feeling. Maybe next time I portal a la google images I'll just touch Stark's metal cocoon and watch him get zapped. Would that even work?

The airport terminal was empty. It looked as if the space was evacuated in a hurry.

"I've got eyes on Rogers! Terminal 8, making his way toward a grounded helicopter."

A quick look up and the sign above my head read 'Flughafen 3'. Hopefully that means terminal. Anyway, I'll just have to book it to the across the airport.

""I see him." Stark said, engines surging in the background, "Everybody ready?"

"Uh, what should I do?" Peter was here! Come on, Pete there's still time to back out.

"Just wait for the signal, kid." Stark replied.

"Um, and what's the signal exactly?" Peter asked. His voice lilting up at the end.

"Oh you know." Stark drawled "It'll be something flashy, then you'll swing in and bam Rogers is down for the count."

Stark wants Peter to go up against Captain America? Not that I'm doubting Pete, but come on it's Captain America we're talking about here.

Peter just made a nervous 'uh-huh ok' noise and then there was a loud clunk, and the sound of something being torn apart.

"Helicopter's down."

A sign to my right passed in a blur, so I quickly backpedalled. Jumping over abandoned luggage carts and littered coffee cups, the entire place felt eerily unoccupied. My lungs were heaving, man I really need to run more. The stitch in my side was flaring with every inhale. Terminal 6, okay two more to go.

I rounded the corner and came to a screeching halt.

There crouched by the far window were two men. They're attention focused outside on the Airfield.

As soon as I rounded the corner their attention snapped to me. Immediately the man on the right stood, his eyes locking me in place, and leveled his gun at my chest.

The other man, the one on the left, lifted a hand to adjust his red goggles. The sound of whirring tech reaching my ears.

They were both dressed in tactical gear, one of them a gleaming metallic looking fixture on his arm, and the other decked out with what looked like a jetpack strapped to his back.

Carefully I held up my hands, trying to show I wasn't a threat.

"Who are you?" Goggles clipped. Neither of them relaxing their position.

Scarcely I could hear Stark talking in the background "...gave me 36 hours to bring you in. That was 24 hours ago. Can you help a brother out?"

I moved my hands toward my face slowly. If I spoke would Stark and his team be able to hear me through the earpiece too? Would Peter?

The metal armed man clicking the safety off his gun was like a warning shot. I held my hand out again resolutely, trying to urge them, 'just give me a second'.

I quickly tapped the earpiece and the voices went quiet, the last "...Tony, I can't" coming softly from the other end, barely audible.

"I-I'm not here to hurt you. I...came for a friend?" I ended on a question. Not sure what these men wanted to hear.

"Oh yeah? Who's your friend?" Goggles asked, his hand had moved up to his ear. Who knew who else was listening to this conversation between us.

"Uh, that's kind of on a need to know basis, sorry."

Neither of them sounded like Stark's men. Or maybe, they were, but I couldn't be sure. It doesn't matter much, I thought it was better to keep myself neutral, don't give them a side to put me on just yet "I'm not here to hurt anybody, I promise."

The goggled man relaxed his position slightly. The other, his hands clenched tightly on the gun was dragging his eyes over my face in quick succession. A furrow lining his brow every time he glanced at my mask for too long. He would catch my eye, and then zero in on the piece of hair I could feel tickling the side of my jaw, and then swing wildly to glare at the mask. Does it frighten him, the emotionless black cloth covering half my face. All they could see of me were my eyes, and hopefully that was enough.

I started backing up slowly, "Look, I really have to run." I said, "I don't want him, m-my friend, to get hurt, please."

His eyebrows furrowed even deeper, his eyes catching mine once more. Blue. Midnight Blue. An ocean hiding a tranquil sea or a raging tempest. He shifted slightly, putting more weight on his heels, his hands unclenching from the weapon. Could he see the faint desperation painted in my gaze as strongly as I was trying to project it?

Tapping the earpiece quickly, I made sure it was on. I heard the sweep of voices start up again.

The men were frozen It was hard to see the expression of the guy wearing the bulky goggles, and I'm not sure I could've read his face even if he took them off. The blue eyed man next to him looked conflicted. His mouth set in a harsh line, but his eyes speaking for the conflict I thought they held.

I sliced my hands backwards and opened a portal at my back. The men jumped back. Again, the gun tightening in on my position, but then lowering in the same instant. The goggled man raised his arm to shoot, I don't know what, but the metal arm shot out, catching him across the chest. It made a dull sound when making contact with the man's tactical vest. The goggled man making a surprised exclamation as the metal arm stopped him in his tracks. Blue eyes blinked once.

I stepped back into a portal, watching the image in front of me vanish, but not disappearing before I heard a jilted "What the hell-" and then I reappeared not 50 feet behind them and took off at a dead sprint.

The chairs and empty cafe's passed in a blur of color. Terminal 7 went by in the blink of an eye.

"Steve, you know what's about to happen." Romanoff said quietly, "Do you really wanna punch your way out of this one?"

This is bad, so much worse than I imagined.

Stark and Captain Rogers were going to fight it out, that was being made apparent with every passing moment. Their dispute about the Accords, or the bombings...or something was enough to split the team in two. Maybe indefinitely. Friend against friend. Peter was brought here as just a show of force, of numbers for the battle. I had to find Peter, and get him out of here.

If worse comes to worse, would I have to choose too? No doubt, one team already knew I was here. Probably Cap's now that I think about it. If it was Stark's I'd no doubt be hearing some spiel about an 'unknown vagabond' or something of that nature, and maybe Peter would've found me by now.

Terminal 8 came upon me like a freight train.

It too looked as if it had been abandoned in a panic. I carefully approached the window.

I could just make out the figures standing below. There stood, Stark, his red armor gleaming in the sun, and to his left another suit. This one made for clear intimidation and destruction, unlike Iron man which stood tall in all its regal elegance. Natasha Romanoff stood by them. A lithe black clad figure, standing as an equal before these men. Another figure, unknown. Black all head to toe, but their suit also gleamed under the sun. Iridescent and controlled in its stance.

One more. There, alone standing before these powerful opponents. Captain America. Hands at his sides, one curled around the form of his legendary shield. Poised, yet also braced, he could explode into motion any second. His shoulders were back, his head high.

"All right, I've run out of patience...Underoos!" Stark called.

Then, a red streak zipped into the scene. It flipped impressively over the heads of the others, yanked the shield from Cap's grasp and webbed his hands together in the process.

No it can't be. Was that Peter?

Stark didn't take his eyes off the Captain in front of him "Nice job, kid."

"Thanks. Well, I could've stuck the landing a little better. It's just the new suit...Well, it's nothing, , I-It's perfect, thank you!" Peter stammered.

He stood, motioning at the suit, the shield waving wildly in front of him.

Stark turned to Peter, "Yeah, we don't really need to start a conversation."

"Okay…" Peter said "Cap-Captain, big fan, I'm Spider-Man." He offered an awkward salute.

I need to get closer, I can barely make out their facial expressions from back here. How do I get Peter alone? I can't exactly just portal into the middle of that and not expect them to give chase.

"Yeah, we'll talk about it later, just…" Stark said. His body now drawn away from the Captain so as to focus on Peter.

"Hey everyone" Spider-Man waved to the crowd.

I'd bet 20 bucks Stark is rolling his eyes right now, but so am I.

"Good job."

Captain Rogers shifted his weight, "You've been busy."

Stark swung around to face Rogers "and you've been a complete idiot. Dragging in Clint. 'Rescuing' Wanda from a place she doesn't even want to leave, a safe place. I'm trying to keep...I'm trying to keep you from tearing the Avengers apart." Stark finished defeatedly.

Rogers stood stoically, not moving a muscle during Stark's speech.

Stark was giving him an out, one that neither of them would be happy with, but an out nonetheless. I could tell from here, Rogers knew his decision already. He wasn't going to back down now.

"You did that when you signed."

Was this whole confrontation about the Accords? Was that what it all dwindled down to, who signed and who didn't?

There's too much at stake here, how could a signature impact the unity of the Avengers. They're the Avengers! How can something like this split them apart?

"Alright, we're done." Stark said aggressively, his anger spiking with every passing second "You're gonna turn Barnes over, you're gonna come with us, NOW. Because it's us! Or a squad of J-SOC guys...with no compunction about being polite."

Captain Rogers turned his face away.

Barnes. That name again, where..Barnes. Barnes . Holy shit.

Vienna, Berlin. That Barnes? Here? James Buchanan Barnes.

...but why with Captain America. Obviously something was wrong, Cap wouldn't risk his team just for one guy, one bomber. There's more to it than that.

Barnes, Barnes, Barnes.

Bucky Barnes.

No fucking way.

The puzzle was slowly making sense, but the edges were smudged, blurry. I had the pieces but couldn't make sense of them.

Bucky Barnes was here, alive, with Captain Rogers. Best friends since childhood, since the 40's. Alive!

Was he the bomber? Was he wrongly accused? What's going on here.

"Hey guys, something-" Peter stammers.

Suddenly, Cap throws his arms up, the web slicing cleanly in half as a rigid arrow is sent flying. The arrow hits not five feet from my face into the side of the terminal window. It doesn't even waver from the impact, but the glass splinters out from the arrowhead.

I was so startled I fell back, a gasp leaving my lips. An arrow can only come from one place, an archer.

I shot onto my feet, and placed my palms on the window trying to find where it came from, anything, but I was too far away. The people below a blur in my eyes as I searched for the archer.

An arrow cocked in the string of his bow, made of harsh lines and unforgiving blue eyes. Barton. Dad. Mom. Pain.

I gasped, raking in breath. It can't be. Plenty of people know archery right? No need to panic.

My ears felt like they were filled with cotton balls. "...there's two in the parking deck. One of them's Maximoff. I'm gonna grab her. Rhodey, want to take Cap?" Stark's voice fizzled back into my consciousness.

There's nothing I can do about it now. Find Peter, get home.

Shaking my head, I back away from the window, not wanting anyone to see me.

"Got two in the terminal, Wilson and Barnes."

"Barnes is mine." There's a jet of black as one of the suited figures dives forward.

Two in the terminal, Wilson and Barnes. Did I pass them on my way here?

"Hey! , what should I do?" Peter called out.

"What we discussed. Just keep your distance, web them up." Stark responded.

Peter took off. I tried to follow his trek with my eyes but he was fast. He was swinging over and under the planes, flipping off of large crates and crawling on the sides of the building.

Dammit Peter.

I took off running back the way I came. Back toward terminal 6 and 7.

The empty chairs and cafe's passing quickly.

My legs pumped underneath me. I snuck quick peeks outside every few feet, trying to guess where Peter was heading.

"We've got an unknown!" Someone yelled into the earpiece. Shit. "Coming up fast! Making their way toward Wilson and Barnes."

Hopefully that's where Peter's heading. Wilson and Barnes must have been the men I'd seen on the way in, they must be.

"I'm on it." Stark called out. I saw a streak out of the corner of my eye. Ah shit.

I threw my arms out ahead of me. The portal sprang to life and I dove through.

My landing was less than spectacular. I rolled into it, relying on my elbows to stop the momentum.

Stark was cursing. "They're gone." He said, "Literally dove straight into the ground and then disappeared, who could have- Jesus, not you, please tell me it's not Spider-Kid's mean nanny."

I chuckled, getting to my feet. "Sorry, to crash the party, Stark, should've brought some of that walnut loaf you love so much."

Stark made a gagging noise into his helmet, "Are you wearing my suit? You're wearing my suit aren't you. I don't think I gave you permission to do that. Maybe you'd like to give it back just about now."

I stood and kept running. I had landed by the window where I met Barnes and Wilson before, but they weren't here.

"No can do, viejo , finders keepers." I retorted.

By then voices had begun to ring out.

"Who-"

"Tony, what's going on-"

"Uh-Don't know. Keep an eye on her, she's a wildcard." Tony said.

I shoved the noise to the background. Apparently Stark had lost interest because he zoomed past the terminals to start another fight somewhere else.

I rounded the last corner, the shapes of Wilson and Barnes running through the terminal thwarted by Peter as he broke through the window, colliding feet first with the Goggles guy, who was thrown to the side.

Immediately, the other man swung hard toward Peter. The metal of his arm colliding harshly with Peter's palm. That punch would've straight up shattered my ulna.

"You have a metal arm? That's awesome dude!" Peter cried.

I yelled out as something rammed into Peter. Goggles can fly! I guess that was a jetpack, huh who knew. He's got wings, big deal.

"You've got the right to remain silent!" Followed as Peter grappled with the man, they swung about in midair.

I caught up finally. My hands to my ribs, trying not to show how winded I was.

The other man faced me, his eyes once more raking over my figure.

We stood, not knowing what to make of each other. I snorted " So, no gun this time?"

The man's face broke into an easy smile. The corners of his eyes crinkling just slightly. "Nah, I lost it back there. Didn't see the use."

His eyes were still wary, they bounced between looking into my own eyes, and the covered face mask I still wore.

I didn't know what to say. I could still see Peter trading quips with the winged man, and thought he was doing just fine.

I tilted my head, "I'm Len-Blaze. I'm Blaze." I said.

He raised his eyebrows, "I'm...Bucky." He must have seen the surprise on my face for his expression turned slightly sour. He sighed and ran a hand quickly through his hair. "So..Blaze, are you friend or foe?" He asked.

His eyes darting from the loose strands of hair framing my face, to the untied scuffed boots on my feet.

I did the same. His hair almost the same, but a bit shorter than mine. The pools of inky sky, blue eyes. Metal arm. Hands loose at the sides. Chiseled jaw.

I exhaled slowly, "I'm...not really on a side. Just here for a friend." My gaze found Peter. He was suspended, sitting on a ledge toward the ceiling, he kept jumping out of Wilson's grasp at every point "..but just between us? If it really comes down to it...and I know I've got no business being here whatsoever..but I'd be on your side." I said.

He looked surprised, scratch that, he looked very surprised.

"But-You don't even know what we're fighting for." His eyes looked confused, worried, for me.

I replied softly "I know enough, Bucky. I don't want to sign the accords. I-I want to make sure I'm fighting for what I believe in, and if that means siding with your team? Then yeah I'd do it." He still looked conflicted, but before he could get a word in I said "Look, I don't know anything about any you, not really. As long as your 'agendas' match mine, then we don't have a problem, alright pal?"

With his eyebrows still raised into his hairline Barnes replied "Yeah, that's alright...why'd you even tell me that?"

Carefully I reached up, and tugged the face mask off. I guess I'd gotten used to it, but I gulped in the unrestricted air now that it was off. I offered Barnes a shy smile. "Well..I'm here, I thought you could use a heads up, just know that you've got more allies out there than you think."

Now that the mask was off, his posture had changed drastically. His shoulders, which I hadn't noticed were held taught, caved in a bit, and his jaw seemed to unhinge. He still had the hint of a smile on his face, but his eyes had clouded over. "I don't think I'm worthy of your support, doll."

I did nothing but shoot him a confused glance in return. "It's not just for you, dumbass. Tell all your friends tuning in that I'm here as back up. Stark could use a good ass-kicking." Turning away from Barnes, I cupped my hands to my mouth "Hey! Aren't you that Spider-Kid from YouTube?" I yelled.

Peter almost, almost , slid off the beam he was attached to.

Barnes and I both jogged toward him. Wilson it seemed was webbed tight to the bannister in front of us.

The eyes of Peter's suit got comically wide. "Lena?" He said incredulously, "I-I mean, random lady, what are you doing here? In this specific airport? In Germany." He seethed.

I shot Barnes a wicked smirk to my left, he mouthed 'Lena?' at me, I shrugged, "Oh you know, realized I couldn't let my asshole bestfriend fly all the way to Germany without me, also kinda realized that this is way over both our heads, and we'd probably just head home about now? Don't you think?"

"Um, yeah" Peter said. "Actually, I'm good where I am, thanks though."

"Pet-Spider-Man, if you don't crawl down that pole right now and portal with me back to America, I'm gonna climb up there and knock your teeth in, I swear to god." I said, stomping my foot.

Wilson gave a loud groan from the banister, "What you are guys? 12? Don't think you've ever been in a fight before, but this isn't usually how it goes."

All three of us swung around to gaze at Wilson. His arms held tight in the white webbing.

"Yeah alright, my bad." and then Peter pushed off, launching himself straight toward Wilson.

I barely shot my hand out before Barnes was barreling past me. Peter collided with Barnes, and his momentum crashed into the captured Wilson and they fell to the floor below. Webs shot out holding them down.

"Look guys, I'd love to keep this up, but I've only got one job today, and I've got to impress ." Peter said from a perch near the ceiling. Before he could fling out any more webs, something flew by, latching on to Peter's wrist and yanking him through the opposite window.

"Dammit" I muttered."Peter!" I called out, but I couldn't make out where he had landed.

Inching closer to the gaping hole in the banister, I snickered at the sight of Wilson and Barnes stuck frozen to the ground.

"Hah Hah, yeah laugh it up, Sweets" Wilson sighed, "Any chance you can un-stick us from this one? Heard your little spiel to Barnes over the comms, do a fellow team member a solid."

I slid a hand through my hair, the face mask long gone in the rubble "Yeah no can do,Pal. I'm kinda busy. Nice to meet you though!" I waved. Wilson's scowl and Barne's soft chuckle followed me out of the terminal.

I jogged away from the mess. The shadows of fighting pairs lined the air tarmacs and rockets exploded occasionally into the clear sky.

The sounds of grunts and stunted conversations sounding over the earpiece.

I gasped as I caught the sight of cars flying from the parking lot. Catapulting into Stark. His red suit going down under the heavy vehicles.

"Shit, Stark. Are you okay?" I asked tentatively. The line remained constant, full of punches meeting flesh and short inhales of breath, maybe a shout.

In the mess of noise I could pick him out "Yeah, I'm good." He said, his voice sounded far away. "It's all part of the job."

I huffed. I was getting closer to the main tarmac. Where the fighting was the thickest. There was broken glass littering the empty seats now.

"I heard what you said back there. About sides, and teams." Engines whirred, and the sound of shifting metal sounded harsh in my ear.

I slowed my pace, walking through the abandoned terminal. I lightly kicked a small purse to the side, car keys falling out of a side pocket.

"Yeah well...just thought I'd make it clear. If worse comes to worse." I said.

"You're here, there's no going back now. I think you're in it for the long haul now." Stark replied. I saw Iron Man lurch from the piled cars. His golden armor glinting in the light. "He's not gonna go back with you. He's got a taste for it, just as much as you have. You know what's at stake here, and you made a choice."

I sighed, "Maybe so, at least he knows I'd show up for him. No matter what. I'm gonna stick by my choices."

Stark's voice was quiet on the other end. "But do you know what you're willing to lose for them?"


	5. No Telling How It'll Go

The explosion shook the very foundation of the building, the windows shattering under waves of intense heat and pressure.

Stark was gone, flying somewhere overhead. I couldn't see Peter anywhere.

I'd barely seen the massive form of a truck fly overhead before the explosion wrecked the building.

I felt glass scratch at my face and arms as I tried to shield myself from the it. I pulled the facemask up to cover my chin and nose. A cut on my cheek oozed blood, dampening the already darkened fabric.

My hands came away red when I rubbed at my skin.

"Is this part of the plan?" Natasha Romanoff's voice rang out. Everything below on the ground was littered with rubble, nothing untouched from the battle so far.

"Well, my plan was to go easy on them. You wanna switch it up?" Stark sounded tired. His voice hardened by everything he'd had to deal with...so far.

It's time to get down there, I need to find Peter.

I picked my way through the glass on the floor. My hair was beginning to plaster itself to my forehead with sweat.

My cheek ached everytime I turned my head. I should've kept the mask on, maybe it would've blocked the glass. Was this gonna scar?

Taking a running start I jump out the broken window. My feet falling through a portal I conjured at the edge of the broken pane, the soles of my shoes barely making it over the jagged piece of glass still attached to the frame. The impact jarred my bones as I landed through the portal to the ground below. Man, this is really hard on the knees.

Jumping through portals seems cool, but once you've got momentum, there's no way to slow down mid jump.

The sooner you jump through, the softer the landing. If you make a portal while you're already falling at 30mph, you're gonna hit the ground at 30mph. I learned that the hard way.

I braced a hand against my hip as I rotated my left knee softly. Ow.

The knee pain was forgotten as I made my way further into the open field.

The fire had begun to die down, but the smell of burnt rubber clung to the air like a dense fog.

Shadowed figures were picking themselves off the ground, flames still licked slowly over the tarred remains of the truck.

Slipping behind a forgotten luggage cart I took the time to catch my breath and think things through.

The burnt smell making my eyes tear and itch.

For the first time, the dark face mask was stifling. I couldn't breathe, the smell, the warmth of the air, and the constant chatter in my ear making the world turn into static noise.

I ripped it from my face, the edge catching on the neck of my suit and pressing harshly into my throat. I heaved, coughing up nothing.

I-maybe I shouldn't have come here. Peter didn't need me here, he didn't want me here.

What are you doing, Lena?

I'm so far over my head, I don't even know what to do.

I've already basically declared my side, without even intending to join the fight.

Who am I kidding. I knew that the moment I stepped into that portal back home and staggered onto the street in Leipzig that I was now part of something bigger. The knowledge made me uncomfortable, a twitching panic had set into my bones the second I'd entered that hotel room and gazed at the suit Stark had made for me. Subconsciously I knew there was no going back from that decision, saving Peter wasn't the only reason I'd adamantly decided to confront Stark. There was something more, some intense feeling that urged me to follow Peter here.

" You're just trying to bury your guilt and anger under a pile of lies. You've always told me to stay in Queens, fight only for the people here in our home ,but so many more need saving! How is it right for you to tell me who I can and can't save?"

Peter's right. I think I came here out of guilt. I-Maybe, I could've done more that night, or done something. I stood by as my parents were killed by that man, that alien, that thing. I didn't do enough.

Nana and I had cried as we watched the destruction brought down on New York the day aliens rained from the sky. She cried out in pain and sadness, I cried out in anger. They had destroyed my life and my home.

So yeah, maybe I was dead set on protecting my people in Queens, but why wouldn't I be? I had to make up for my mistakes somehow.

People talked after the attack. People in our neighborhood, in my classes, they knew who I was, they knew what had happened to my Dad, but they still whispered conspiracies in the halls. After Dad had died, I filed a missing persons report. When Mom, turned up in Germany, Germany, her lifeless body surrounded by intricate laid plans and military grade equipment people talked about her. Maybe she orchestrated Dad's death, maybe she left willingly, maybe she helped attack New York... she was to blame.

Nana believed me. She knew to hold me as I cried about electric blue veins running through my mother's skin and burrowing into her eyes, she knew to find the facts in my nightmarish tales. Electric blue eyes scarred into the backs of my eyelids every time I closed my eyes, my mom's dark figure standing over me as I fainted unconscious. No, that wasn't mom, that was him.

Peter was the one who decoded the informational dump after S.H.I.E.L.D blew to shit. We pieced it together, bit by bit. The man's name was Loki. He was an alien. He disappeared, back into Space, maybe to face his crimes, maybe to be absolved of them, who knows.

New York was destroyed because of one man. My parents were killed as collateral for his end game.

And I wasn't about to jump onto the board and sign over my neck to the grasping hands of Stark and the United Nations.

Queens deserves my protection, because I decide to protect it, nothing more, nothing less. My parents weren't given a choice that night. Now I do everything I can to ensure all my people get a choice.

As long as I get to control my life and my abilities, then I'll fight like hell for my people and for those that I love.

Unknown to Peter, he had changed both of our lives by coming to Germany.

My back slid down the surface of the luggage cart. I landed harshly onto the marred earth. The face mask clenched in my fist as I hugged my legs to my chest.

Drawing one finger away at a time, the cloth fell into a heap by my feet.

The explosive heat was now to my back, warming the metal of the discarded cart behind me.

I can't just blame Peter for my decisions too. I chose to follow him here. I chose to go against Stark. I tried to keep it simple, the idea was so simple in my head. Get to Germany, grab Peter, and talk some sense into his thick skull.

Where did it go wrong?

Peter clearly was set on his decision. He thought that following Stark, knowingly , getting on Stark's radar and fighting for him was the right choice. I made my opinion on it clear...and that's really all I can do. I-I can't risk our entire friendship, it's not worth it if it tears us apart.

My head was down, hair sticking to the rivulets of blood on my cheeks. I tensed as I heard the scraping of footsteps approaching me. I could see red boots coming closer as I gazed through my stringy bangs.

"L-Lena?" They called hesitantly.

My head split back, making a loud crack as it hit the metal luggage cart. My hand reached out to rub at the tender spot, my eyes widening at the figure before me.

"Pete!" I choked out. He quickly crouched down to lean next to me, his hand coming up to rest against the side of my head where I slammed it into the cart. He swiftly yanked his face mask off, and left it to pile next to the dark bloody heap of fabric by my feet, though he paid it little mind. His brown eyes darting across my face, lingering on the vivid cut on one cheek.

There wasn't a scratch on him. I smiled.

I made to stand, but Peter just looked around dodgedly before plopping down next to me. His red clad legs stretching out on the asphalt.

He sighed, and reached up to ruffle his hair.

I don't think he knew what to say.

I coughed, shifting my weight carefully, this is awkward.

"You know, I could just portal us back home right now." I said.

He pursed his lips, looking out at the abandoned tarmac. It didn't even look like there was a fight from this side. "Yeah,I know, but you wouldn't do that, Lena."

"And why's that?" I asked.

He turned to me, "because you're not sure if I'd forgive you for it or not."

I paused mid breath. The situation we were in felt precarious, one foot on solid ground, and the other held in suspension.

"I-You're right." I replied, "I don't know what you'd do Peter, and honestly I don't really want to know your answer either." I loosened my hold on my legs and laid them out, Peter's thigh pressing into mine, "Pete...why did you decide to come to Germany with Stark?" Better to get straight to the issue. We only had so much time, I needed to make sure Peter and I stayed friends, that we knew we could count on each other.

The fingers on his right hand drummed against the back of his leg, "It felt like it was the right move to make, I-Look, I was happy back in Queens, protecting our home, but there's so much more we could be doing, not only for New York but for the world, you know? Tony Stark showed up at my door, and you expected me to turn that opportunity down? After this I can go back home and know that I can do more, that the Avenger's maybe know about me, and they can call on me if they need to." He finished softly.

I didn't respond right away. There was stilted grumbling coming from the earpiece that I didn't try to make out.

"I get why you did it, I know how important your decision is to you, I'm just- Peter, I'm scared." I couldn't look him in the eyes "My parents were taken from me just because they-they had useful skills, we have useful skills, and I don't want to see you get hurt because someone has decided to use your powers to - for them to use just for themselves."

I snuck a quick glance toward Peter. His eyes were down on his lap, the drumming fingers faltering slightly, and then picking up once more "Lena," his gaze flitting upward, a piece of hair falling to dangle half in his eyes, " I chose to use my powers this way, and I think it was the right choice. Maybe-no, I don't agree with , not about everything, but I made a promise to help, and so that's what I'm going to do." He smiled softly "It means so much that you came all this way, for me, but I guess when it came down to the real reasons why we're here, then...we're not on the same side." He said sadly.

I smiled back, offhandedly reaching up to push the stray lock of hair out of his eyes, he swatted my hand away with a soft groan " Honestly, I thought I came to Germany to haul your ass back home, but really I just came because I didn't want you joining the big boys without me." I laughed. "Pete, we're not on the same side, and I'm not gonna change my mind about the Accords or anything like that, but also just know that I'm always gonna be there for you, always."

"Yeah, right back at you."

"Really? That's all you're gonna say? Peter,come on dude."

"Hey!" His voice squeaks, he coughs and then says, much lower "Hey, we're always going to be best pals, so I didn't really see the point of elaborating so…"

I shoved his shoulder, his knee knocking into mine "Shut up, you idiot."

"Hate to break up your...chat, but your whole 'best friends schtick' is kinda ruining the whole friends to enemies thing we've got going on over here." Stark's voice cut through.

Immediately, Peter and I stopped our joking. Our bodies shifting away from each other.

Peter stood, bending down to snatch up his mask, he offered mine but I shook my head resolutely "It's covered in blood." He made a disgusted face before dropping the dark fabric to my feet and then pulling the red over his face, his brown eyes disappearing behind black. A smile plastered on his face under the dense fabric.

Grabbing my hand, he pulled me to my feet. I bounced quickly on the tips of my toes, and shook out my arms. I shot Peter a quick smirk. The eyes on his suit squinted in a funny way, "We're so cool" he yelled, and then Peter took a starting run and swung into the air, my disgruntled "Hey!" getting lost behind him.

Sometimes I forget he's just a kid, but I never forget that he's also a massive dork.

I jogged ahead of the luggage cart. The exploded truck was laying charred and broken on the airfield.

The windows nearby sported jagged shards of glass and broken frames.

Peter was jumping from one spot to another, his discarded webs hanging limply from the rooftops and walls. He turned right behind a downed plane and I assumed, met up with the rest of Stark's people.

Chatter once more filled the earpiece, shout outs of positions and sightings of Captain Roger's team. Muffled aches and groans from already soar team members filled the empty silence in front of me.

Jogging further onto the field I caught movement up ahead.

From just around the corner came a group of people. They were running, catching up together in a pronounced V as they all made toward a large bunker space.

It was the other team!

I pumped my legs faster. I need to catch up.

They came into focus as I came closer, but they hadn't noticed me running behind them. My legs started to burn, my hands sweating uncomfortably, so I tried to wipe them on my pants but nothing seemed to be working.

Light was glinting off the prominent shield held in front. Red, white, and blue. I tried to push myself to run faster.

Peter all but forgotten. We had split ways still being friends and that's really all I could ask for. Now it was time to really join sides.

Rogers' legs moved incredibly fast in precise powerful motions, he was barely touching the ground. Bucky was to his left. His metal arm swiping through the air with every stride.

The entire team seemed focused, unreachable, so set on where they were heading.

Captain Rogers shot his arm out, pointing to something up ahead and gesturing to the team behind him.

Four more figures came into view. Three men and a woman.

The woman was a streak of red, her hair flying behind her.

There was Wilson, his mechanical wings stored in his jet pack once more. The goggles still sat on his face.

Another man, his face covered in some kind of mask. He lagged behind the group a little bit, his hands kind of shooting around like he was trying to keep up.

And lastly, a man in black. Tactical gear. Although unlike Bucky's. His was sleek, smoothly dangerous in places Bucky's wasn't.

I ran even faster, the wind by my face irritated the fresh cut on my cheek, but hopefully it wouldn't start bleeding again.

I don't think I've ever run this fast. I quickly glanced down to check if my shoes were tied, that would suck if I face planted just about now.

I was closer now. The blobs of red, white and blue focused into a crisp uniform, and a chiseled jaw underneath it all.

I tripped, gasping as I caught sight of the man dressed in black. He came into focus surprisingly fast. I couldn't even understand what I was seeing. My knee started to ache again from landing on the hard ground.

Strapped to the guy's back was a quiver, and held tightly in his grasp, a bow.

I can't breath.

The archer. Barton. I couldn't see his face, but I knew it was him. I knew it.

My hands scrambled on the rough tarmac. My nails digging into the concrete painfully. Get up, Lena. Get up!

I stood. My breath leaving me in heaving pants.

The group was still running, unaware that I was standing behind them.

Quickly I lunged, a snarl ready on my lips. I didn't even think about it.

The portal ripped into the air, it's edges tinted black. The glowing blue looking sickly in the dull sunlight.

I jumped through.

The portal appeared above Barton before any of the team could react. My legs made a soft thud against his back, and I throw my arms around his neck. Tight, tighter. The arrows in his quiver dug harshly into my gut. I couldn't see, my hair shading my vision, but I held on even harder. I swear I could feel him breathing through my calves wrapped around his waist.

He staggered, surprised by my weight, but he shot his arm back to grab at the arrows. I pressed even closer, the quiver caught between my body and his. I can't let him get his hands on it.

A sob built in my chest, my arms tightening around his throat. Barton stopped trying to get the arrows and scratched at my arm, I cried out in pain as his nails dug into the flesh of my forearm. He wasn't even making a sound, no gasp or anything, this only made me even more desperate.

I barely shifted to tighten my grip when I was thrown off of his back. I saw stars for only a second when my head split against the ground. The sun was peeking out behind a cloud.

I gritted my teeth. Angry tears burning my eyes.

I leapt back to my feet.

The team had stopped running.

Barton stood, an arrow cocked in his bow, leveled straight at my chest.

Before him stood Captain Rogers. His arm was thrust outward, covering Barton's chest. The shield was held loosely in his other hand, but his gaze was hard, he unflinchingly met my gaze.

I barely glanced at him, my eyes caught on the archer.

I must have taken a step forward because the Captain tightened in toward Barton, the corner of his mouth pointing downward. His eyes briefly flicked to look at something over my shoulder.

"It's you!" I yelled, pressing a palm into my eye. Don't you dare fucking cry, Lena. "You-you're the archer," I spat venomously.

Barton didn't relax his position, "you were there, you saw it happen, you helped him ." I cried.

I can't concentrate. This can't be happening now. I swung my head around wildly. My hair messy, hanging around my face. "I-I" I was at a loss for words. I never imagined I'd come face to face with this man ever again in my life. I almost wanted to run. Forget the fight, forget Peter.

I can't face these memories again, please just leave them for my dreams, or for my nightmares. Don't bring them into reality.

I gasped for breath, while the others looked on.

My hand was clasped in my hair, holding it back, or ready to tear, I don't know what I'm doing.

Then, Barton relaxed. The bow drooped, the arrow sliding out from the string.

I glanced down sharply. Keep focused on the weapon, don't let him pull it on you. Don't let him overpower you again.

He pushed the Captain's arm down and away from him and took a careful step toward me.

His face looked drawn, the brows hooked together, and his eyes tried to catch mine. I didn't want to look into his eyes. Please, don't make me see that horrible blue, please. Mom.

I paused. This man, he did and he didn't resemble the archer from that night. I knew it was him, but he seemed different.

He looked at me softly. The bow was held far out in front of him. Was he trying to tell me he wasn't a threat? After I literally tried to strangle him?

I couldn't meet his gaze. I stood, allowing my hair to shift over my eyes again, my head hanging low.

"I recognize you, I know who you are." His voice rang out true, cautious but unwavering "I know this must be horrible for you, kid. But I-I don't know what to say- there's no way to apologize for it, but... I'm so sorry. I didn't-I couldn't-" He stopped, I saw him shift back and forth through my hair.

He sounded different. His voice was filled with emotion. He sounded sad, uncomfortable, and even scared.

I steeled myself and pushed my hair back from my eyes, and prepared to meet Barton head on.

" How can you stand there?" I said, "I-you took everything from me- my parents-" My voice cracked, "I can't believe-" and then I met his gaze. Brown on blue. Soft blue, sky blue. I stood shocked. Harsh lines and unforgiving blue eyes. Barton's eyes were kind.

I choked on my words, and he took a step closer, his eyes searching my face.

I staggered backwards "Your eyes, I-what-" My back hit something hard, an arm came up to grasp at my shoulder but I twisted away. Bucky stood behind me. His arms outstretched, almost touching me. His gaze darting over my face, but then he put his arms down, they hung loosely at his sides, and he looked over my shoulder.

They weren't moving to subdue me. Why wasn't anyone attacking me? Bucky just continued to look at me with concern. I swung back around.

Barton was still there, but, like Bucky, he too shifted to gaze at the Captain at his right.

"Your eyes are different, they're not electric anymore-my- my mom's eyes turned electric blue that night, I never thought to picture your eyes- I...dreamt of them sometimes but…" I stammered.

Captain Roger's chin tilted down, his shield coming up to prop over his chest. What was going on?

Barton seemed to deflate, his hand came up to rub across his face "Your mom didn't choose to leave you there" He said pleadingly "That man-Loki" Barton ground out between clenched teeth "He made her do those things, and I-I didn't have a choice, I...I've dreamt of your face too sometimes. I remember you."

This was too much to handle. I can't understand what he's trying to tell me. I don't want to think about Mom.

My head was pounding.

Subconsciously I should have known that Barton was mind controlled like Mom. That night his eyes were a shocking shade of blue, the same blue that enslaved Mom and took her from me.

How I didn't piece together that Barton was Hawkeye either, I had no idea.

Oh man,I can't believe I didn't connect the dots. To think of it, all the men that night had electric blue eyes. I just wanted someone to blame. People to blame, other than Loki.

I shook my head "I know about mom, I'm- Barton, I'm so sorry I-"

I can't string a coherent sentence together at this point, I could barely look him in the eyes.

Barton straightened out, and gave me a soft smile "Don't, there's nothing to apologize for."

To think I've spent the last years blaming this man in part for taking my parents, killing them. I'm going to be sick.

The team behind Barton shared glances and pitying looks came my way. Wilson took a step forward, sensing the exchange was at an end, or that my mental state was slowly dissolving before their eyes "We've gotta get going, Cap." and Captain Rogers snapped to attention.

Barton brought the bow back into position, his hands clenching around it and checked the quiver at his back. He shot me a cautious smile.

We can move on from this. We're both here for a reason.

Calm down, Lena. It's okay. He's okay. He's not the bad guy here.

I took a deep breath, tension rolling off my shoulders in waves.

Captain Rogers looked at me carefully, but his eyes no longer held the hardened glint they had before. He glanced over at Bucky quickly before turning to face the team.

"The quinjet is our only way out of here, we make it there and we're good to go."

Together as a team, they turned to look at the open hangar in the distance, a sleek black jet sat in the open space.

"We make it there together," He said, his eyes sweeping the team before landing on me "Can we count on you?"

Eyes raked over me. My scuffed boots and disheveled hair, my puffy red eyes too.

His opinion was the most important. If I wanted on the team, this was my chance.

The team seemed cautious, or maybe just Wilson seemed cautious. He made to step forward, but Bucky beat him to it.

His flesh arm reached up to clasp my shoulder. The warmth from his palm grounding me.

"She's with us, Steve." He said. I blinked up at him stupidly. I was supposed to plead my case! Bucky, what are you doing.

Was Bucky backing me to Captain America?

I stammered. "I-I" and then stopped.

Bucky quirked an eyebrow down at me, but my mouth just gaped open.

"I just attacked a member of your team!" I exclaimed.

At that Captain Rogers huffed out a brief laugh, his eyes crinkling through his helmet. "Are you sure, Buck?" He asked.

He didn't even ask why I wanted to join. Nothing, nada.

Bucky just held on to my shoulder ever harder, "You heard what she said earlier, she's with us. What? You didn't think I'd cash in on your 'back up' offer?" He directed at me.

I could only gape in answer. "Are you sure?" I asked, glancing between Captain America and Bucky Barnes, not to mention the rest of the team of superheroes. None of them seemed to have a problem with me being there. The girl in red smiled at me, and gave a little wave.

Captain Rogers smiled but then looked down at me, "We heard what you said, all of us, and it took real guts to say what you did. So...welcome to the team." and just like that, everything was forgiven.

I can't believe Steve Rogers just let me join his team..that I just attacked...and cried in front of.

God after this shit ends, I'm gonna have to get every one of these damn heroes a cheesy card that just reads, I'm sorry, please still be my friend . This is ridiculous. Actually I should get one for Peter too while I'm at it.

I sighed, rolling my eyes. "You're all idiots. I'm so sorry, yes please let me be on your team, Barton sorry I monkey clung to your back, Wilson sorry I let my kid friend beat your ass and that I laughed about it, Bucky,sorry I also laughed at you when you fell off that thing, and hey to everybody else, I'm Lena, sorry I'm crashing the party." I rambled. That was definitely a word vomit.

Laughs rung out all around except for Wilson who grumbled about stupid kids and spider people.

The guy in the pointy face mask yelled out "Score! Badass new team member, this is great!" and then waved animatedly at me. He seems cool.

Bucky leaned down to talk to me, his hand was still on my shoulder.

Wow, his eyes are even prettier up close. "That's Scott, and that's Wanda." He said, pointing out the other two team members.

They just beamed at me in turn.

Suddenly a voice rang out in my ear, "...Rogers and team are heading toward the quinjet, I've got eyes."

I stopped, my hand shooting up to press at the earpiece, "Stark knows where we are, he's got our position down and he's heading this way."

The light laughter died abruptly, everyone shifting into soldier mode. Scott muttered a confused "You've got Stark in your ear?" before Rogers cut him off. He gave me a curt nod.

"Let's move out."

As one we began to jog, and I fell comfortably into the back, running just behind Bucky.

I really had to pump my legs to keep up with this lot. "We might have to fight our way onto the quinjet, stay close and keep your eyes open." Captain Rogers said.

Barton hung back too, his gaze finding mine every couple paces. The more I saw of him, the more the terrifying image of his steel electric eyes was erased from my mind. Barton is the good guy, Lena. I've got to get to know this version of him.

I smiled at him. I'm on his team now.

Bucky was running further ahead, his long strides matching almost three of mine.

I exhaled sharply and then pushed to catch up with him. "Hey-" I heaved "Why are we heading toward the jet thing? Quick, fill me in." I tried to whisper. He only shot me a somewhat annoyed glance but then spoke out "There are...dangerous people we've got to stop, they could be used to hurt a lot of other people." His eyes turned hard, and he didn't turn to face me as he spoke but kept the jet within his eyesight.

I didn't bother to reply, but kept my pace steady. That was enough of a reason for me. Help my team get to the jet, get them on board, hope they stop the bad guys, then turn around, grab Peter and portal back home, easy peasy.

I'd be able to help where it really mattered, I can help here on the ground against Stark. I'm not sure how well I'd do against those bad guys that could take Captain America in a fight. Or guys that caused the tension in his shoulders and clenching in his jaw he had when he picked up what Bucky was saying.

This way, Peter and I can fight for what we believe in, on this level. I can pretend that's enough for the both of us at this point, we can think about the other stuff when we get back home.

I wonder what Nana's doing just about now?  
I let Bucky run ahead of me, I matched pace with Barton at the back.

I barely raised my hand to shoot him a thumbs up when a jagged spark of light rained down on us.

The yellow beam cut through the sky and made a violent slash in the asphalt before the team.

Barton and I quickly caught up, while Rogers and the rest of the team had to slow their pace quickly to not hit the laser beam. A being floated above us.

The beam cut straight from a point in their forehead, and they had a flowing cape which billowed behind them.

I raised a hand to shield my eyes from the glare and was surprised to see that the person had almost purple colored skin. Their grey leotard stood out starkly against the shade of their face.

"Captain Rogers" a voice called out " I know you believe what you're doing is right. But for the collective good you must all surrender now."

Stark's team assembled below the floating man. One by one they stood at the ready, facing us all head on.

Peter was the last to swing in. He landed gracefully in between the others, his face swinging around to take us in, but I know his eyes landed on me in the end.

Here we are, on opposite teams. We both knew it would come to this.

"What do we do, Cap?" Wilson asks.

I glance sharply over the people around me. I catch the eye of Wanda next to me, red shines bright in her eyes before she turns back to watch Stark's team.

Bucky clenches and unclenches his metal hand. Whirring noises sounded softly from the arm.

Wilson looks calm, ready. Barton seems relaxed but the hold on his bow says otherwise.

Scott shifted restlessly, his pointed mask leveling toward the opposing team.

Rogers is the the perfect picture of a soldier. Arms braced, back taut, chin jutted outward.

"We fight."

The hint of restraint in his voice the only proof of his cracking facade. This was hitting him hard. This was the moment, the one they were all trying to avoid.

There was no telling how Stark was doing under the Iron Man mask, but the steely emotionless gaze made my skin crawl.

Captain Rogers started forward into an easy jog, and we all stepped into line accordingly.

"This isn't going to end well." Romanoff's voice rang out in my ear.

We sped up. Jog turning into a run.

I kept my eyes on Peter. Hopefully I'd get to him before one of these other guys did.

Run turned into a sprint.

I could feel the adrenaline pumping in my veins. I held the sprint easily now, my eyes dead set on the group in front of me.

We had each lined up. Chosen our mark.

Peter glanced around at his team, "They're not stopping." He said, his legs moving even faster to keep up.

Thirty feet separated us, twenty, ten.

The pounding of feet loud in my ears.

"Neither are we." Stark grounds out before taking to the air.

One more burst of speed and we meet.

Metal on metal rings out as Stark's fist meets the infamous shield.

Friend and friend trade blows beside me.

I turn, throw my shoulders back and throw my arms out, a portal springing into existence.

The webs barely miss my legs, but at the last moment Peter falls through and disappears into a halo of blue.


	6. Practice Makes Perfect

From the moment I met Peter Parker, I knew he was going to be a pain in my ass. Which was why I was only a little surprised by the situation I found myself in.

"Peter!" I yelled. "You can't just dodge every portal, come on, we're fighting to the death, at least shoot webs at my face or something." I put my arms down for a second, they started to ache from the constant strain of holding them up to make portals.

For around the last five minutes I've been standing and throwing portal after portal at Peter, but every damn time he found a way to leap over or faint under them. I was getting tired of it. "Ok, maybe not to the death, but you're kina making me look stupid in front of all the super people." I groaned.

I thrust my arms up, the portal bursting to life not three inches from Peter's swinging form. He shot webs out at the last minute which yanked him violently to the right and then he flipped sideways up and over a parked cart.

Around us the sound of fighting crescendoed and enveloped the entire airport. There were rocket explosions turning the air to smoke, and grunts and groans of fighting pairs which were jumping in and out of my eyeline.

Peter latched onto the side of the cart into a crouched position. I jogged slowly up the the side and had to raise an arm to block out the glaring sun. I squinted my eyes trying to see Peter better.

"Oh are we taking a break?" Peter asked, he stood and started walking sideways across the length of the cart. Showoff "I was getting kinda bored anyway, it was fun though! We should do it again sometime!" He laughed.

Pinche Pendejo.

I grumbled, stalking even closer to the cart.

"Peter, I swear I'm gonna come up there and punch you in the throat." I glared, "I'm so done with this." I said, stomping my foot onto the asphalt.

Peter only laughed. He walked up the side, to the roof of the cart and threw out a quick wave in my direction and then flicked out his wrist to use his web shooter.

I planted my feet and opened a portal just as Peter's web shot out. The stringy lines sailed right through the portal and then looped through another portal at his back, slamming with a loud thwip, into the back of Peter's head. I smirked up at him.

He shook his head, the stringy ends of the web hanging around his face, and then reached up and pulled the web slowly off his suit. It barely clung to the material.

Peter turned and placed his arms on his hips. If I could have seen his expression under the mask I think it would've been pretty peeved.

He then backed up, his heels slightly hanging off the edge of the cart before starting at a sprint and swan diving off the end.

I shot out my arms, but Peter dodged the portal quickly, his webs yanking him in the opposite direction. And we were right back where we started.

Again and again he jumped and looped through the blue portals. Sweat was starting to bead down my temple. Every time I threw out my arms my loose hair whipped around my face, I was taking breaks from the fighting to fish lone strands from my mouth, gross.

Behind me the fighting was still going strong. I was almost at the point where I could stop flinching after every crazy rocket explosion. I'm pretty sure I've felt at least three of Barton's arrows barely miss my face too.

"Pete-" another flash of blue as a portal emerged in his tracks "-stop-" again he jumped out of the way "-being-" two portals this time, one in the front and one slightly off to the right "-so fucking-" he dropped straight to the ground, rolling underneath both openings "-annoying!" I screamed.

Peter stood, still on the ground, turned and gave me a little bow.

That little shit.

Clenching my fists, I raked in a deep breath before creating a portal directly under his feet. He must have fallen about five inches into the swirling blue before he somehow was pulled out by a lone line of web.

He looked back at me before giving an excited yell, he almost swung away before something massive was sent hurtling toward him.

I could only watch as car after car was thrown his way, swirling wisps of red encircling the vehicles.

Peter shrieked "Those are cars, you guys!" but managed to jump and wiggle his way out of being hit by any of them.

Wanda stood not far off, her arms waving around her body, they too were covered in the magical wisps of red. She maneuvered the cars, throwing them under and over, while making sure they didn't come down to rain death upon the both of us too.

"Yes! So badass!" I yelled, shooting Wanda an enthusiastic thumbs up. She returned my gesture with a wily grin, the red in her eyes was sparkling.

I let Peter dodge a couple more cars before I nodded toward Wanda. She threw two SUV's toward his left, knowingly leaving him the only option to swing out at an angle to the right.

Watching Peter slip through the portal was a welcomed relief, and his loud groan of defeat was one to remember.

Wanda approached me, her eyes straying to the spot where Peter disappeared into oblivion "Where did you send him?" She asked, her lips curled up at the sides in a slight smile. Wanda's eyes had lost their red tint and shone through in a soft green. There were specks of gold lost in their depths.

"Oh, somewhere on the other side of the airfield." I said, pushing a stray piece of hair behind my ear and smiling her way "You don't happen to have an extra hair tie, do you?" I asked.

I yanked large handfuls of my hair and attempted to shove them out of my face, but I'm sure it did nothing to tame the wild waves around my face.

"Sorry, but no." Wanda laughed. Abruptly her eyebrows furrowed and she spun past me, flinging her arms out as she went. The red seeped back into her irises. Man she's got a fast reaction time.

Stark's earpiece had been surprisingly quiet so far, only the sounds of groans and grunts sounded through the comms, until then.

A feminine voice rung out "We're still friends right?" came slyly from the earpiece. I couldn't hear the reply but there was a rush of air and the sound of a dull thud onto the tarmac.

Not far in front of us, Barton was facing off against Romanoff. His bow cocked in her direction, and she stood poised ready to deliver the next flying blow.

I watched as Wanda's red wisps encased Romanoff's foot and flung her backwards against a discarded luggage cart. The resounding clang of her impact making us all wince just a little bit.

"You were pulling your punches." Wanda offered toward Barton, who swiftly pushed onto his feet.

Barton nodded in response, his gaze flickering over to Romanoff who was dazed on the ground. "Yeah, well I'm not the only one." He said, looking pointedly at me.

I motioned to myself, "Who? Me?"

Barton shook his head "Yeah, you. Or is your fighting style usually just 'fling out portals and hope for the best." He laughed.

Scowling, I grumbled "Not all of us are super spies or whatever the hell you are, Barton." I pointed at his bow, and he did nothing but raise his eyebrows at me, and then look pointedly at Wanda.

She just sighed, "You two are definitely not the only ones." Wanda left, jogging toward a different fight. I turned to watch her leave and couldn't make out more than the glint of metal and the vicious whirl of a black suit off in the distance.

Barton had already jogged away by the time I lost sight of Wanda.

I stood alone on the field. Rubble was strewn everywhere and there were scorch marks faintly smoking along the length of the tarmac.

Engines whirred above me as metal men streaked overhead, and I could vaguely make out different fights going on in the distance.

Anyone was fair game it seemed. One guy was fighting another and then they would shift and fire a rapid blow of fire at another pair trading blows. It all was going so fast.

Everyone was just...fighting. There were no shout outs of laid plans, no group show of force to seize the quinjet just yet.

All that came from the earpiece were the occasional sharp exclamations between hits and explosions. I guess everyone was trying not to get personal.

Although, it's a bit too late for that.

I spun around, looking for Peter in the mess. I think it'd be better if I just stuck to 'fighting' Pete than trying to go against a literal Avenger.

A voice crackled to life through the comm "That thing does not obey the laws of physics at all." Peter said, the echoed thwip of his webs sounding in the background.

"Look kid, there's a lot going on here that you don't understand." Captain Roger's voice was faint through the earpiece, it barely came through but I placed my hands over my ear, trying to block out all other noise. Peter was face to face with Cap and I had no idea how that was going to end.

I knew Peter was a strong fighter, I'd seen him go up against bigger and tougher looking guys, but this was something else, something bigger that neither of us had faced before.

" said you'd say that." Peter replied. I heard the fling of his webs and a yell before there was a metallic clang through the earpiece. Peter huffed out a laugh "He also said to go for your legs!" He called out.

Jesus, Parker. What I would've given to see Peter land Captain America on his ass.

There was a following sound of a struggle, and a gurgled shriek from Peter. I threw my head up and looked around the air space but still had no idea where they were.

"Did Stark tell you anything else?" Came faintly through the earpiece.

"That you're wrong, you think you're right, and it makes you dangerous." Peter said. He sounded winded, his breaths coming a bit too fast.

I cupped my hand to my ear again trying to hear what was going on. There was a grunt and then the loud sound of metal screeching. Peter huffed out a loud breath, the creaking metal ending with a thud and then Peter started panting in quick inhales.

"You got heart kid, where're you from?" Captain Rogers said, his voice sounding firm through the channel.

Peter ground out a heaving "Queens." before he let out a quick exhale.

"Brooklyn."

I reached up to jostle the earpiece, it was starting to slip a bit. The black bud feeling a bit uncomfortable from being shoved in my ear for so long.

I was trying to poke it back into my ear in a more comfortable position when my legs were kicked out from under me.

I landed with a harsh thud on my back, I blinked up at the dark figure before me.

Her head blocked out the harsh glare form the sun and her red hair gently framed her face.

Natasha Romanoff smirked down at me and all I could do was stare back.

"Um-I" I stammered.

She gave a small nod of her head, motioning for me to stand. I reared to my feet, clumsily tripping over a loose shoe lace.

The earpiece was hanging half out of my ear, but I didn't even care at that point. I wiped my hands on the pants of my suit, but they seemed damp with nervous sweat. "Um, wow. Hi, I'm such a big fan. You're The Black Widow, wow hi." I rambled, thrusting my hand out before us looking for a handshake or something, I don't know.

She lifted one perfect red eyebrow and didn't make any move to shake it.

God, soy un idiota.

I quickly retracted the hand and reached up to try and smooth my hair.

"You know," She drawled out, "you could use some training, but you've held your own pretty well so far."

I shifted nervously, "Y-yeah, thanks. I haven't done much...you know...I'm saving my energy for the big guys."

Again she raised an eyebrow, her mouth still curled in a smirk, and her hip jutted out to the side, but there was no doubt she could obviously obliterate me with the twitch of a pinky.

"N-Not that you're not a big guy, I mean!" I continued "Woman not guy, big woman...Uh..I'll fight you right now, lets go puta, Jesus, sorry that was too far, you know what I take it back, sorry to bother you ma'am I'll just be going back home now." I swung around, my cheeks burning in embarrassment. I barely took two steps before my feet were knocked out from under me again.

This time I did see stars when my head collided with the rough ground.

Natasha Romanoff leaned over me, her mouth still in that damn smirk.

"You just knocked me on my ass again." I said incredulously.

"And hopefully, next time you'll see it coming." She replied. I mouthed 'next time?' in confusion before I felt the black earpiece finally slide out of my ear. It landed soundlessly near my cheek.

Within the next second Romanoff had darted out a foot and crushed the earpiece into dust. The quick twist of her ankle and it was toast.

"Hey!" I exclaimed.

She did nothing but shoot me a pointed look "Go join Rogers, I'm sure we'll see eachother again, кролик "

I barely had time to blink before she was gone. I was in a daze, what just happened?

Go join Rogers? Wasn't I already a part of Rogers' team?

When I stood, the earpiece was nothing more than a smudge on the ground. My head was pounding and had a sensitive bump forming on the back.

I guess Romanoff had a point. So far I've only actively fought Peter. I didn't want to be in the way, I wanted to take a stand for one team without having to do anything to follow through.

Now, I've gotta get in the middle of it.

It wasn't fair to the rest of Rogers' team, not to Bucky and Wilson, Wanda and Scott, even Barton that I got to sit back and 'pull my punches' going at it with Peter.

If I really want to take a stand then I have to take some risks.

Stark's broken earpiece didn't matter now, I had to find my team.

Bending down I tightened my shoe laces, made sure my suit was snug, and then attempted to smother my hair into submission. I was ready for anything.

Iron Man was flying above an open field up ahead, I was sure if I followed him then the rest of the heroes would appear too.

Every step I took the sounds of battle got louder. Stark was yelling something about his suit and white vapor was being expelled from the sides. He was making jerky motions through the air above.

Wilson was swooping over the scene, his impressive wings laying shadows over the entire tarmac and right on his heels was the bulking shape of Stark's other team member, the man with the silver suit.

Barton was nearby, he was kneeled on an abandoned cart, firing off arrows in rapid succession.

Signature red, white, and blue darted into my field of vision. Captain Rogers was moving at a steady jog, and Bucky wasn't far behind him. They moved with concentrated grace, and stopped when reaching an abandoned plane. They took shelter from the fight, and spoke intensely from across their hiding spaces, one behind the front landing gear and the other by the opened stairway. Bucky kept rearing up to check their surroundings every couple of seconds.

I pumped my legs harder trying to catch them.

My feet skidded across the pavement as I slid right in next to Captain Rogers, my shoulder crashing against his.

He flashed a surprised glance my way before righting himself and placing a hand on my shoulder so I could catch my balance, and their conversation stopped abruptly.

Both he and Bucky flicked their eyes over me, and both got caught on the rough cut on my cheek. The blood had begun to coagulate but I'm sure it was still an ugly sight.

Self consciously I reached up to prod at the injury, and winced when my fingertips made contact with the inflamed edges.

I shook my head and let the waves of my hair slide over the wound, not wanting them to see it anylonger.

I flinched back as a hand reached up by my face. It drew back cautiously but then started toward my cheek again and I gazed up at Captain Rogers as he cupped my cheek in his palm.

With all the tenderness in the world he moved the hair out of my face, and tucked it gently behind my ear. The scrape of his gloves barely sliding against the side of my jaw.

His hand moved to tip my chin, his blue eyes searching my face.

Eyes blue as Forget-me-nots. They shone out in the darker fabric of his helmet, and darted from my eyes to the red cut and back again.

He cleared his throat, but didn't move his hand, "It doesn't look that bad, I don't think it'll scar."

My lips parted in a surprised 'oh', and I could practically feel my cheeks turning pink "T-thank you, Captain, I-"

"Steve."

I smiled and snuck a glance out of the corner of my eye toward Bucky.

He stood not far off and watched us both with a knowing gleam in his eye. It was hard to make out, but his stormy gaze didn't stray from Steve and I.

"Thank you...Steve." I murmured, a loud explosion sounded overhead causing Steve's head to swivel, and move his hand from my chin.

I stepped back, biting the inside of my cheek.

Man, what is it with those damn super soldiers and their blue eyes.

"Um, would either of you have an extra earpiece thing? I guess I missed that part during team initiation." I joked. Let's forget whatever just happened. Maybe I dreamt it?

Steve started patting down his suit, the giant shield flopping with the movements of his arms, "..I thought I had an extra…" he muttered.

He puttered about for the next couple seconds before giving a little 'aha' and pulling the small black bead from a hidden pocket somewhere.

"It was in my utility belt." He said sheepishly.

"Your utility belt? What are you? 80?" I laughed, plucking the earpiece from his hand.

Steve shot back a sly grin but before he could reply Bucky piped in "More like 95, doll."

My mouth popped open in surprise and I scuffed my feet on the ground awkwardly as I slid the comm into my ear.

The second it was in, Bucky's demeanor changed. He might have been slyly smirking before but his face lost all of the tender charm it held for the moment, "Steve, we gotta go, that guy's probably in Siberia by now."

Steve's mouth set into a hard line, and the shift to soldier mode was almost jarring.

They had to go find the bad guys. It was horrible to say but I nearly forgot there was a bigger fight under all the team Stark vs team Cap.

"We gotta draw out the flyers, I'll get Vision, you get the jet." He directed toward Bucky who nodded quickly.

The sounds of engines whirring above us was getting louder and louder.

"No." A voice rung out through the comm "You get to the jet, both of you." Wilson said, flying over our heads all the while being chased by small projectiles "The rest of us aren't getting out of here."

Steve and Bucky shared a look.

Bucky shot his gaze over to me as I stood worrying my lip.

They were the two sure fire ways to win the fight, I knew that. The rest of the team knew that too.

Barton piped in, the sound of gunfire echoing in my ear, "As much as I hate to admit it, if we're going to win this one, some of us might have to lose it."

"This isn't the real fight, Steve." Wilson exclaimed.

He was right, this isn't the real fight. Battling it out over the Accords was important yeah, but there was more going on.

I nodded in agreement, this was important. The mission was to make sure both Steve and Bucky got to the jet, then they could stop the shit that was going to happen. Getting them there without Stark butting in was the real issue.

But...there was something I could do, "I can get us out, I could make a portal big enough for the whole team, if we can just get Steve and Bucky to the jet then I can portal us back to New York, or at least somewhere safe." I said resolutely.

Both Steve and Bucky shot me surprised glances, but the teammates were the ones who responded.

"Kid, we came into this knowing there were risks." Wilson said, "The important thing is that we chose to follow Cap, to help him take down the real bad guys, all the while knowing things could go to hell in the process."

"Ross and the U.N have some sort of idea who's against the Accords and who isn't...if you or your friend are caught in the crossfire here there's no going back" Barton said softly.

"He's right Lena, we know what we are walking into, there's still time to turn back." Wanda's voice came through the comm.

I shook my head, "I-No, I can't just abandon you all. Please, let me just do this. We can make it out, I know we can." I said, holding Steve and Bucky in my sights, knowing they ultimately had the final say.

I heard complaints start to build up in my ear but cut them off before they could go on any further, "Look, going against the Accords means being able to choose where I fight and who I fight for, isn't it? This is me choosing. Like Wilson said, the real fight is out there, and our main goal is getting Steve and Bucky through to fight it. I knew there was no going back when I stepped into that portal and ended up here in Germany, and I'm sure as hell not going to walk away now." There was silence from the other side. "I'll do all I can to get us all to safety, us and my spider friend," I said sharply "...and in the end if it doesn't work out... or something happens, well then we'll go down fighting together. Does the word team not mean anything to you guys?"

Steve looked down at me and nodded gravely "Lena's right, if there's a chance you can all get out safe, then you should take it."

I didn't miss the focus on 'you' rather than 'we'. By the look on Bucky's face, neither did he.

Steve didn't pause for a moment, "Alright, Sam, what's the play?"

"We need a diversion something big." Wilson - Sam - replied. He was still flying loops over our heads, and seemed not to be in any hurry to switch it up.

"I got something...kinda big, but I can't hold it very long. On my signal, run like hell. And if I tear myself in half..don't come back for me." Scott said confidently. He had yet to pipe in on the whole 'leave us behind' thing, so there's no guess how he fits into it all. He could be used to the whole 'maybe I'l go to prison, maybe I won't' mentality, but I knew I felt the uncertainty sear itself into my bones. No use in worrying about it now.

Sparing a glance around to see if anyone else was as confused as I was, Bucky squinted in my direction. Actually, every time I've met him he's had a confused expression on his face, but that could be common in 100 year old war vets. "He's gonna tear himself in half?"

"Dude, I have no idea what's happening." I replied, shrugging my shoulders.

Steve seemed more cautious than confused "You're sure about this, Scott?"

Scott made a 'psh yeah' sound before calling out "I do it all the time. I mean once, in a lab. Then I passed out."

I snorted, great, this is what we're going to rely on?

I elbowed Steve in the side to get his attention, "Hey jefe, I'm gonna do some damage up top, hopefully that'll cause a distraction too...which doesn't result in bodily harm." I laughed.

I shot a little wave at Bucky, and gave Steve a pat on the shoulder "Don't you guys worry about me, I can handle myself. Go kick some ass." I turned back around and sighted Sam flying above, being closely tailed by the other flying 'Ironman' like suit, tracking them across the sky I conjured the portal quickly to my right and jumped through before they both got out of range, the sound of Scott chanting "I'm the boss, I'm the boss." following me through.

The blue portal swirled to life at the exact right moment, I fell and spread my arms out wide, landing with a jarring thud against the metal back of the silver suit. Sam gave a surprised yelp when he looked back and saw me hanging on koala style to the guy with all the machine guns.

I may have also taken a peek down to see Steve and Bucky gaping up at me.

Wrenching my arms around the bulking metal shoulders I simply started yanking at stuff.

I couldn't get much loose but it sure was freaking out the guy in the suit.

He started zigging across the sky trying to shake me off, but I held on.

"Who are you?" He yelled.

The wind and the powerful thrusters on his feet were loud, drowning out most of the noise below. "I'm Lena!" I screamed, my hair whipping around me, I was practically eating it. "What's your name?"

He stopped short and gave only one answer "War Machine" and then floated for a second before restarting his thrusters again, the motion causing me to slip down as he shot straight up into the air, going into a twisted half loop movement.

I'm pretty sure my screaming could be heard over the engines, why did I think this was a good idea?

It was kinda working, I could see that the guy under me was no longer following Sam, but had split off to focus on me.

Just as I was working on dismantling the rocket launcher on his back, something massive shot up in front of us.

Grabbing War Machine in mid air and towering over the airfield was Scott.

"What the fuck, Scott!" I screamed in panic. One of his eyes was the size of my body. He let out a low crazy laugh and swung us around to face him. The only reason I stayed on the guys back was because of my muscles seizing up in shock.

The guy under me wasn't okay either, "Okay, tiny dude is big now. He's big now." He chanted.

"I guess that's the signal." Steve's voice rang out in my ear.

"Way to go Tic-Tac!" Screamed Sam.

The giant form of Scott was moving slowly, his arms waving through the air but his eyes were still locked on War Machine still held in his hand.

Oh no. "Wait-Scott," I stammered as he began to rear his arm back, causing me and War Machine to move through the air. Scott moved his arm back before throwing it forward, and us with it. I shrieked as we sailed through the air. Trying to see clearly through the spinning I loosened my hold on the guys back and fell straight down.

The weightless feeling made my stomach churn. I slipped through a portal and braced for the impact. I tried to land as softly as possible but in the rush I still fell around ten feet, and my ankle felt the most of it.

Above me, War Machine seemed to have made it through, and hanging off his armor was Peter.

They flew together toward Scott. Peter being dragged smoothly behind him.

The higher they went, the more I could only make out a red and grey blob of motion.

I had to run and dodge behind an abandoned truck as fires surged over the asphalt. Debris was flying everywhere and the heat was rising.

Scott tore off the wing of a downed plane, and kicked loading boxes onto the small figures running beneath him. I winced as the damages continued to grow. Stark better pay for all this shit.

Peter was flown higher and higher and finally swung around, landing a blow to Scott's face.

Off in the distance, Steve and Bucky could be seen going at a dead sprint toward what I presumed to be the quinjet.

Again a fire lit the space, a truck bursting into flames under Scott's foot.

"Scott! Watch it man!" I screamed up at him, but I doubt that he heard me.

Barton was off fighting to the right, trading blows with the unknown black suited figure on Stark's team.

I didn't see how I could help in this situation.

While War Machine rained down bullets on Scott, Peter was off crawling over and swinging under his giant figure.

Wanda then appeared, her red magic being used to throw cars and carts War Machine's way. Anything to get him occupied with something else.

I jogged, making my way to Wanda. As soon as I arrived she shot me a grateful smile. Her eyebrows scrunched in concentration. I made portal after portal, trying to deflect stray rockets and bullets from War Machine and redirect the cars that missed their mark.

We worked together like a well oiled machine.

"We've got incoming." Sam shouted over the comms. "It looks like local authorities caught sight of Jumbo over here and are on their way, no knowing how soon Ross gets down here too."

I didn't know who Ross was, but by the look on Wanda's face he wasn't someone I wanted to meet.

It was hard to say but it seemed like the intensity seemed to ramp up even further after that. We were truly on a timeline now.

Wanda and I continued to work against War Machine but our attention was divided as Scott shrieked "Something just flew in me!" and Wanda's head turned toward the shout at once.

There was a confused shuffle, and then we could make out the floating form of the man with a cape heading straight toward Steve and Bucky off in the distance.

Wanda faltered, her gaze splitting between here and there, "Go" I urged her, "I got this."

She gave me a tight nod before lowering her arms and running toward the floating figure, red wisps disappearing with her.

It wasn't long before War Machine gave me the slip too. It was hard to deflect gun fire and fling cars at your opponent at the same time.

I leaned down to catch my breath. My elbows perched on my knees as I gasped for a couple of seconds before straightening out once more and gazing around the battlefield.

Scott was still stomping around, every step making the ground shake.

I shut my eyes as Peter was seen running across the back of a plane as Scott's arm swept right behind him. Peter made it out just in time, and swung up into the air, looping around Scott's torso and legs.

As War Machine and Iron Man both joined him, Peter began circling. His webs shooting out rapidly to cover Scott's legs after every turn.

Scott began to stumble, his legs being held taut by the webbing.

"My god, he's doing Empire Strikes Back," I shouted excitedly, "Scott's the AT-AT, guys oh my god this is awesome. Way to go Pete!" I said. But of course no one responded.

As Scott began to tip backwards, I could tell Peter was whooping, just as he swung around one last time, Scott's arm shot out, snapping the web and throwing Peter through the air.

"Peter!" I screamed in horror.

His body flew limply before crashing through a bunch of crates and laying motionless on the ground.

I didn't even register I had moved before I was perched at his side. The blue from the portal behind me casting a dull shadow down on both of us.

I couldn't force myself to touch him. Peter's arm laid flopped out to the side. "Pete, come on, please be okay." I cried reaching for his mask.

Just before I could move it over his face, Stark landed with a thud beside me. The resounding clink of his armor putting my teeth on edge.

I tensed as he came closer, and startled as Peter jumped to life in front of me.

He struggled as he pulled the mask over his face and gulped in a big breath.

I hadn't noticed, but Stark bent down to kneel next to me "Kid, you alright?"

"I-What, oh, hey man...Lena!" He shouted when his eyes met mine.

I smiled a tight lipped smile "Hey there Pete."

He just tossed his head back, closing his eyes "Wow, that was scary."

"Yeah, you're done." I said pointedly, "Tell him, Stark." I motioned to to him.

"Stay down." Stark said firmly, " You're going home or I'm calling Aunt May, You're done!"

Peter's face crumpled and he moved to try and get back up, but I put a hand flat on his chest to hold him down.

" Wait- , I'm not done, I'm not-" He stammered.

Peter quieted down as I glared at him.

He glared right back. "You're not gonna tell Lena to go home?" He questioned.

Stark looked at me quickly, the bruise on his eye was a dark sickly looking purple, but then he turned back to Peter, "Yeah, well she's an adult, she can make her own decisions, but you're a kid and I'm the field trip advisor so I make the rules."

With that he stood, his thrusters revving as he took off into the air.

I tapped Peter on the chest, "Peter, stay down. Nope, don't even try to argue. I'm going back out to see this thing finished and then we're both going back home." I argued, really trying to make sure I got my point across.

Peter let out a loud groan before tossing his head back down onto the asphalt, and throwing an arm dramatically over his face.

I stood, and cuffed the edge of his foot with my boot. He kicked back at me lazily.

"You did pretty good out there, Pete." I said. The fact that Peter was laying unharmed at my feet lifted a massive weight from my off shoulders.

He humphed in agreement, but then suddenly jumped to life "Did you see when I jumped over that giant airplane? And when I dodged all those rockets? AND when I literally beat up a guy with a metal arm , Lena this was the best day of my life." Peter gushed.

I rolled my eyes but laughed along with Peter's excitement, "Yeah you were definitely badass, not as badass as me, but you got pretty close."

Peter made to argue back but suddenly there was a rumble off the distance. The sound grew louder and louder before a massive black jet soared over our heads. My hair thrown back in my face from the sudden wind.

I punched Peter in the arm and yelled excitedly "They made it! Pete, Steve and Bucky did it!"

I whooped after the jet, and Peter clambered to his feet, his hand scratching under his chin before he reached up and yanked his red mask back in place.

"Steve and Bucky, what-," Peter started in a confused tone, before his eyes widened comically and he let out an irritated groan "Does that me we lost? UGh, this sucks."

I shoved his shoulder hard enough for him to stumble, but then I darted out my hand and grasped him by the elbow "Come on! We've gotta go find the others and get out of here before the press shows up, quick we don't have much ti-oh no."

My face paled as I caught the flash of not only Iron Man but War Machine following closely behind the quinjet, and they were gaining on it fast.

I tugged on Peter harder, urging him to start jogging in the direction the jet had gone.

Making sure the earpiece was still in position I tapped it once, "Guys, we got Stark and War Machine tailing the quinjet." I spoke urgently.

"I'm on it." came the reply just as Sam zoomed through the air, his wings a bright streak of red in the sky.

He was gaining speed quickly. Peter and I started to run, trying to stay beneath Sam's shadow.

I had no idea where Scott, Wanda, or Barton were but there was no time to stop and look.

"Come on, Sam." I murmured, my eyes not leaving the procession in the sky.

Sam had started firing off small explosives, but none seemed to stop the two iron suits in front of him.

In the blink of an eye a golden shaft of light shot onto the scene. Sam ducked out of the way in the last moment but it went on to hit War Machine square in the chest. My breath got caught in

my throat as I stumbled to a stop. All at once the suit started to fall. The grey figure started plummeting toward the earth, with no sign of stopping.

I grasped Peter's hand in mine tightly. "Oh my god."

Iron Man turned back, trying desperately to reach the figure before he hit the ground, but he was already falling too fast, Stark wasn't going to make it.

Sam was also doubling back, his wings pointed in a clear V as he tried to reach War Machine in time.

We both gasped as the dull thud of impact reached our ears. A cloud of dust rose into the air far off in the distance.

I couldn't take my eyes off the scene. Urgently I held Peter's hand, "S-stay here Pete, they may need some help, I should-" Could anybody survive a fall from that height?

"Lena, wait-" Peter's hand grabbed open air as I stumbled into the portal, closing it quickly before he could follow.

War Machine had made a grisly hole in the soft earth, the edges of the dirt smoking slightly.

His face mask had been torn clean off and his face looked serene, asleep even.

Stark knelt over the body in stoic silence.

I felt like an intruder. The scene was quiet, but the air surrounding it felt charged and explosive.

Sam landed with a soft whirr, his wings retracting into his back "I'm sorry." He offered to Stark.

Without so much as a glance, Stark raised his left fist and shot Sam, the impact driving him back onto his stomach. Sam laid unmoving in the dirt, the echoed whine of Stark's repulsor dying down.

I must have gasped, or taken a step forward for Stark's gaze snapped to mine. His expression was livid, a muscle jumping in his cheek as he looked at me.

Taking a step back, I held out my hand in between us "Stark, I-" I stuttered, unsure what to say, and unsure what he was going to do next.

"You could have saved him." Stark growled, "You could have made a portal, caught him before he hit the ground."

He eyes burnt into me.

"No I-I couldn't have, he was falling too far, and too fast, I-I, It wouldn't have helped" I pleaded.

I don't think he wanted to hear reason. His eyes raked over me from head to foot before he raised his arm again, and I heard the whine of a repulsor starting up.

"Wait-Stark, Please. He would've hit the ground just as hard!" I tried yelling, but was suddenly blinded by the bright shot of energy heading toward me.

I choked on my breath and hit the dirt hard. The sharp crack of my shoulder being ripped from its socket sent a shock through my body.

My shoulder screamed in pain, and my eyesight started blacking out in the corners. I clawed my fingers beneath me, my right arm and shoulder pulsing in bright red bursts of pain.

Gasping out, I could barely make out the anxious shouts in my ear.

Barton and Wanda's voices ringing out hazily through the agony.

I felt dizzy, my ears ringing.

"...surrender! Hands behind your head, get on your knees!"

Shots were ringing out.

"Lena!"

"Get out of here!"

"...They're coming."

Panic began to bubble in my chest, tears pricking at my eyes.

I couldn't move my arm without gasping out in pain. Black splotches rearing up in my eyes after I so much as shifted weight.

I don't know how to make a portal without me hands. Oh my god, I can't make a portal without my hands. It was too late anyway.

Tears started to blur my eyesight even more.

Small panicked sobs were leaving my mouth. I turned my head to the side, the blurry red figure of Stark sat in the same place as before.

He hadn't even bothered to look back.

"Get Peter out of here." I slurred, just as shadowed figures moved in and blackened out the sun above me.

I cried out as they pulled me from the dirt and placed me in chains.


	7. All Aboard!

By the fourth hour in the air I stopped trying to keep track of the twists and turns in our flight path.

There was no way to measure the speed we were traveling, nonetheless how much land we'd already covered.

It was windy outside, that I could tell.

The plane would give sudden lurches and drifts to the sides that left my stomach churning.

My head was hanging almost limp, and my eyes were clenched tightly shut.

After the first hour I simply closed my eyes, the better to try and concentrate on pushing the pain away.

My eyes had been closed for such a long time I was seeing rolling hills of black behind my eyelids.

They had bound my arms behind my back. Steel rods separated the cuffs, and a rope was laced around that attached to the back of my seat. I could barely move an inch.

For the first two hours my right shoulder had been ablaze in pain. I think my eyes had stopped watering by the third hour in. Now, the arm felt numb in its agony. The shoulder seemed to be pulsing in time with my heartbeat and kept sending me waves of pain if I even so much as shifted in my seat.

When are you supposed to reset dislocated shoulders before there's permanent damage?

It doesn't seem they'd be willing to help out anyway.

I don't remember getting on the plane. One moment I was flat on my back writhing in pain, and the next I was cuffed and headed to super prison.

Nana's gonna kill me.

The plane gave another massive lurch, and my stomach churned. I attempted to double over to try and relieve the uncomfortable sensation, but gasped out as my shoulder was tugged by the movement of my arms behind me.

My head drooped in defeat. God, how much further are we going? Hours and hours on a wobbly plane ride was not doing me any good.

I could feel tingling numbness creeping down my shoulder and into my forearm, which probably was a bad sign.

A headache was starting to form behind my eyes too. How great.

With a big sigh, I laid my head on Wanda's shoulder. She was restrained on the seat to my right, and with every turbulent jerk of the plane her body would bump into mine. I didn't even care when it shot a lightning rod of pain up my shoulder.

My groan was hidden in her hair.

She softly laid her head down on top of mine, the most comfort she could offer given the circumstances.

Our legs were left untied, and Wanda kept hers folded near to the chair. Come to think of it, she hadn't moved much throughout the journey, if only to touch her head to mine or let out light exhales.

I stretched my legs out into the aisle.

My shoelaces had become untied, and the bottoms of my boots were caked in mud. I brought them down hard on the aircraft floor smirking at the lumps of mud flaking off onto the runway.

Hair had begun to slip down over my eyes but I could still make out Sam and Scott sitting cuffed in front of me.

Sam raised his eyebrows at the clumps of mud left toward his feet, but Scott started slamming both his feet up and down, giant flakes of mud smearing into the floor from his shoes as well.

The guard positioned by the entrance racked his baton hard against the side of Scott's seat, the jarring sound making him pause mid foot stomp. Scott sighed loudly, wiped his feet one more time and then looked off to the side to grumble in disappointment.

A black shoe reached out from my left and nudged my soiled boot.

Barton was almost lounged back in his seat, the steel bands on his arms were apparently no big deal, or maybe he was just used to being in them. His black tactical uniform was still on, and molded into the black lines of the airplane, which made his blue eyes stand out all the more.

"How's your shoulder" He whispered, his eyes straying to the two guards nearby.

One stood near the entrance to the cockpit, the other near the unloading dock at the back of the aircraft. Both didn't seem to be paying any attention.

I half shrugged my one good shoulder, hissing as it moved the other "It would feel a fuck ton better if these pendejos took the cuffs off and popped the bone back into the right socket or whatever."

Barton huffed, "Yeah, well as long as we get it fixed up in the next, say six hours, then you probably won't need surgery."

I choked " Surgery?!"

He laughed, his thigh pressing into mine, "I've had a couple dislocated shoulders and they're a bitch, had the surgery too which sucks even more" His eyes crinkle when he smiles "My daughter, Lila, fell off her bike and I swear I could hear the distinct pop when her bone shot out of the socket." He met my surprised gaze briefly before flicking away, biting at the inside of his cheek quickly.

"You have a daughter?" I asked quietly.

His cheek jumped, "Lila, and my son, Cooper. They-" He paused, "They're safe, with their mom...my wife."

I think my eyebrows just about jumped off my forehead.

Barton has a wife and kids?

"W-why are you telling me this?" I stuttered.

His mouth turned down at the corner "Lena, do you realise how much you've risked in the past 12 hours?" I only shook my head in bewilderment, "You were going to portal us all back to your apartment, risk having been seen with wanted fugitives, and brand yourself as a sure opponent to Stark." He listed off.

"Well-I-" But cut off, not having anything to respond to that. He was right, I had done all those things. And in hindsight I didn't really think many of them through, but you know what they say, 'fake it 'til you make it'

He only shot me a quick look, "You barely know any of us, not to mention the past the both of us share." Barton looked away a frown pulling at his lips.

"No, it wasn't you, that doesn't have shit to do with any of it." I grimaced. "Look, I wanted to help you guys, I want to be on this team because you're fighting a fight I want to fight. How many times do I have to fucking say this, Jesus" I groaned, tossing my head back against the wall "I chose to be here, I chose to fight with you guys, and now I choose all of you guys to be my new friends and you all get no choice in the matter." I finished, stomping my boot on the ground.

"Isn't that a little hypocritical?" Sam piped in from across the way. All of them had been so quiet, I almost forget they were sitting in here with us.

"Fuck off, Wilson." I snarled.

Then I turned back around, "So, Clint,- yeah I know your real name Hawkeye, bird man, whatever...I was just too stupid to connect the dots before - I'm right where I wanna be... on the way to prison to ultimately rot in a cell with all you losers for the rest of my life."

I darted my eyes around the space, all of them sporting smirks, to smiles, to confused squints.

Clint just knocked his knee into mine, a hiss leaving my teeth as I was reminded of the pulsing shoulder attached to me, "I trust you kid, and I hope...maybe it can go both ways someday." He smiled sheepishly.

I knew things weren't totally fine between me and Clint. It would take time, like all things do. The electric blue eyed monster I'd seen that night was slowly being erased, and in its place soft blue crinkly eyed Barton appeared.

All of them, Wilson, Scott, Wanda, and Clint were in this with me, and the bonds of friendship were already taking hold, and I knew once those formed nothing could rip that shit apart.

I shot a big smile around the space, almost, almost, forgetting where we were for a second.

The crash of a baton against metal made me jump, my shoulder bumping against Wanda's harshly and making me see black spots for a second.

My head was swimming, and I heard shouts call out as my body sagged forward before being restrained by the steel bands securing me in place.

As I had sagged forward my shoulder stretched out behind me and the burst of agony was unreal. I thought I could feel the grating scratch of bone on bone as my arm started moving.

I yelled out, clenching my eyes and breaking through the side of my cheek, blood coating my tongue and making the faded nausea rear its head.

"Quiet!" Shouted one of the guards, again pounding his baton against the side of a metal chair, the sound echoing in my ears and making my temples ache.

This is ridiculous. "Well maybe if you'd fix my fucking arm I'd be a bit more quiet, asshole!" I spat.

Clint jerked his knee against mine in warning.

The guard that yelled turned in my direction, the baton hitting against his palm.

"Hey there big guy, don't get too trigger happy." Sam cautioned, his eyes sharply following the movements of not one, but both of the guards.

Scott sat up straight, "Yeah, Jerk! We could take you down in a second, flat."

This really isn't the time for that, Scott .

Wanda just sighed next to me, her eyes flicking over the scene in little interest, I nudged her shoulder with my head "Can't you like magic us out of here or something?" I whispered, my eyes split between the approaching guard and Wanda next to me. Scott was still yelling out funny insults and jabs that I'm sure were just making everything much worse.

Wanda looked at me out of the corner of her eye, "Only if you want to end up stranded in the middle of the ocean."

My mouth popped open in surprise, "Prison….or death by drowning, ugh I hate making decisions." I pouted, "Clint, what do you think?" I turned toward him.

The guard nearby was much closer than I thought, he had paused to shout more words at Scott like "Quiet prisoner!" and "Shut up!"

Clint paused and pretended to think about it, "well as long as we're all together…"

I rolled my eyes. This is pointless.

"Yeah, prison it is" I muttered.

Scott was clearly running out of stupid insults and his face was turning kind of red but the guard hadn't stopped slapping the baton against his open palm.

Their face barely showed through the dull helmut they wore but I could tell they were getting upset due to the growing snarl on their lips.

It was time to step in, " Oye, jerk face!" I yelled, catching both of the guards attention and succeeding in drawing one away from Scott, "Are we almost there yet? My ass is going numb."

"You really got 'em riled up this time" Sam piped in, looking between the guard and me.

The guard started stalking down the aisle toward Clint and I, the baton still swinging into his palm. He stopped not two feet away and then glanced down at us in annoyance. Reaching over, he switched a flip on the baton and sparks started to fly out the end. It sizzled and cracked, lighting up the darkened space.

"What is that? A fucking cattle prod?" I gasped in mock outrage. "Give me all you got."

"Stop talking, Lena." Wanda said, although she didn't seem too worried with the electric stick held in front of her face.

The guard advanced closer, the sparks flying dangerously off the baton, the corner of their mouth turning up in a wicked grin.

They got one more foot forward before Clint shot his leg out, tripping the guard who then was sent sprawling at our feet. The baton twisted out of his grip before flying forward and slamming into the thigh of the other guard stationed by the door.

A gurgled yell was heard as that guard fell to one knee, his thigh twitching from the electrical shock.

"Wow, that was something." Scott said, his body leaning against the arm braces to get a better sight of the moaning guards on the floor.

I shot Clint an amused glance, and he just shrugged, making an innocent face and whistled looking around the cabin aimlessly.

My chuckle was drowned out by the sudden sound of an alarm. What little light in the aircraft bay was shut off and replaced with the shadowed hue of blinking red. The guards on the floor immediately heaved themselves up and took their stations near the entrances, not even moving to retaliate for the tripping and zapping that had just happened.

We all looked around confusedly at each other, and felt the shift as the airplane halted its movements before a weightlessness was felt as it started descending.

Wanda straightened, then tipped her head back against the cold wall behind her, eyes closing briefly "We're here."

The aircraft gave a big lurch and then settled. The creak of metal made me wince.

The door shot open, armed guards rushed in and crowded the open space we were restrained within.

These guards didn't spare us a glance but mechanically bent to remove our bindings from the chair backs, the steel rod still in place to prohibit any movement.

The alarm had yet to stop, and there was a damp breeze coming through the open door way. It smelled like metallic rust, and faintly an ocean breeze. The rush of fresh air made me lightheaded.

Scott was yanked to his feet, a guard holding the cuffs firmly as they marched forward and out the door.

Next was Sam, then Wanda.

Another guard approached me. This guard didn't wear a helmet. He had an angular face which might have looked pleasing if not for the ragged edge of a scar that caught above his jawline. His hair was cropped short to his head, overall giving him a menacing look about him. He sneered down at me and pulled the steel rod harshly from my chair.

My shoulder positively ached, panting for breath I struggled to my feet. My vision going blurry for a second as I stood.

I tried to focus on my feet, the less amount of attention I payed to my shoulder the better.

The guard was an oppressive force behind me as they urged me forward, my feet shuffling out before me.

Pain was dancing up my arm with every single step. In and out I continued to focus on my breathing. Keep calm Lena, don't think, just walk.

It was getting easier to concentrate less on the shoulder and more on our surroundings.

Once I was marched out the door I was astounded by the open hangar we arrived in.

Water was dripping from open slats in the ceiling, and there were numerous guards stationed in every direction.

Heavy weaponry was aimed at our solemn procession.

I twisted my head around, trying to see the space better. There were doorways leading off into dark corridors, but I couldn't get a good look at what was inside. The guard behind me cuffed me on the back of the head, urging my gaze forward.

I switched from focusing on my feet to the graceful shuffle of Wanda walking in front of me. Her guard held the steel band tight in one hand while the other was locked down on the back of her neck. Even from here I could see the clenching and unclenching of Wanda's hands, the stark red of half moon nail crescents showed on her open palms.

The line of us finally entered a secluded hallway, the sounds of alarms and falling water fading in the background.

One by one we marched on, our shoes making funny squeaking noises on the damp ground. Up ahead Scott was shooting his head back and forth, trying to get a look through every hallway and window. His guard didn't seem to have a problem with it, there was no cuffing of the back of the head, nothing.

Suddenly as we rounded a corner, Scott was shoved through a dark doorway, and disappeared inside followed by his guard.

In the blink of an eye, Sam was gone too.

I followed dutifully behind Wanda, but not another second passed before I saw her hair whip around a corner and then she too disappeared from sight.

This was wrong, something was wrong. They surely couldn't separate us, right? We're high profile prisoners we should be kept together.

Panic began to creep into my chest, and I started breathing harder. The idea of facing the unknown alone wasn't something I'd thought about.

I actually thought they'd let us stay together.

Whipping around anxiously I met Clint's eyes.

He looked tensed, his eyes darting around the hallway before flitting over to mine.

His eyes softened, and he mimed taking in a deep breath and then exhaling calmly.

I attempted to slow my breathing but the guard behind me shoved me hard between my shoulder blades and I stumbled over my untied shoelaces. Snarling behind me I attempted to twist around again, not wanting to lose sight of Clint either.

A doorway was coming up on my right. A darkened hole leading to God knows where. My breathing picked up again and I really began to struggle with the guard behind me.

His rough hands kept me still, one holding on firmly to the steel bar laced between my hands and the other hot against my upper back. The feeling made me squirm.

"Clint!" I yelled, attempting to stop my feet. I don't want to go in there alone with this guard. The looming darkness was closing in around me. Where were the others? Would I ever see them again? Lena what did you get yourself into.

"Deep breath! I'll find you, kid!" Clint shouted as he was paraded past the open door before it swung shut with a clanging boom.

The lights turned on after a couple seconds. One after the other flickering to life.

I stood with my back to the room, trying to face the doorway we had come through. The guard stood between me and the door, one arm hung loosely at his side, the other perched tensely on the electric baton on his belt.

My shoulder ached with every staggering breath I tried to pull in.

Calm down. It's fine.

The walls were a depressing gray metal. Coldness seeped into the room, I could feel it in the steel of my cuffs already.

The guard shifted position, taking a step toward me.

I backed up swiftly, darting out my tongue to lick at my chapped lips.

He took another step forward, his hand not leaving the weapon on his side.

"St-stop. What do you want?" I sounded much more afraid than I wanted to. Where's the confident, joking Lena from the airplane? I wish the others were here with me.

Or better yet, I wish I was back home with Peter...if he ever made it home.

I shook my head, trying not to picture the nightmares that road of thought could lead me down.

Peter was fine. Stark got him out in time.

Oh god, what would Peter think when I eventually didn't show up at home. What about Nana?

Stop, don't think about it now.  
Steve and Bucky made it out, it was worth it. I made my choice, now I gotta stand by it.

The guard's heavy footfalls were jarring and again I backed up but stopped short when my hands met with the edge of a metal chair. It didn't budge when I shoved the backs of my legs against it, which I thought meant it was snug under a table too.

My panicked gaze shot up toward the guard, who only smirked in response.

Shit, not good, not good.

Realizing he had me cornered, the guard held his hands out in front of him, a mock show of a truce.

I'm not some wild animal who needs to be talked down.

I straightened my posture the best I could and let the guard get closer.

He covered the distance in two strides and clamped his hand down onto my right shoulder before I could so much as blink.

The pain was almost blinding. I hadn't put any pressure on the injury for hours and with the sudden jerk against the joint I was seeing stars.

I cried out, and my knees started to buckle as I jerked to the side trying to get out of his grasp.

As I was panting and inhaling harshly through my nose the guard pulled the chair out, shoved me in front of it and then dug his fingers into the bone. My right knee gave out as a wave of agony hit me, and then my body plummeted into the seat.

I was left straining for breath as my vision faded in and out in front of me.

The guard had yet to remove his hand from my shoulder, but continued to hold it in place. Maybe he was trying to hold me still, or maybe he was sick son of a bitch, who knew.

I scarcely made out the noise of the door swinging open behind me and I tried to life my drooping head. Sniffing I tried to stop my nose from running, it was enough of an embarrassment that I could feel tears springing into my eyes as well.

A man stepped around the table and stiffly positioned himself in the metal chair in front of me.

He was an older man, his beard already turning grey. His eyes were deepset and serious, harsh wrinkles framing his forehead and mouth. This looked like a man you didn't want to mess with.

I sat on the edge of the chair, not wanting to put unnecessary pressure on my bound arms.

The man threw down a thin manila folder, and it skidded across the table. He seemed to reach out mechanically to open the case. Dark eyes flicked over the material before they finally moved upward and met mine.

The man's mouth seemed to thin in disapproval as he roamed over my figure, briefly lingering on the injured shoulder which was undoubtedly swollen and had the joint sticking out to strain against the dark fabric of my suit.

He huffed out through his nose, "I am Lieutenant General Thaddeus Ross, Secretary of State under the United States, and I am here to discuss your suspected involvement of illegal activities in opposition to the newly ratified Sokovia Accords. We have evidence to assume that you, Magdalena Angelica Ruiz, have aligned yourself in opposition to the Sokovia Accords and have, yourself, allied with Steve Rogers, Captain America, and James Buchanan Barnes, The Winter Soldier."

Ross was reading off a sheet of paper from the thin manila folder. I suspected that was all the information they could drudge up on me in the past couple of hours. There wasn't much, which I was glad of.

Did Ross even know anything?

"Your were apprehended under duress at the Leipzig/Halle airport in Germany, wounded and suspected of-"

"Get somebody in here to fix my shoulder." I slurred, reveling in the surprise on Ross's face as I cut him off.

His eyebrows shot downward, making shadows appear over his eyes, and his face turned very stern, "Miss Ruiz," He said stoically "Until we can determine your involvement in this case, you will be given no medical attention."

I gaped at him. No medical attention? "What? So until I tell you what you want to hear, I'm gonna sit here and risk permanent damage to my shoulder?" I glared across the table.

Ross set the manila folder down and discarded the printed text, but leveled me with an icy glare "Miss Ruiz, I don't believe you understand the situation you find yourself in." The guard's hand was still a hot weight upon my shoulder, and it was making my skin twitch in agitation, "We know you were there in Germany, we don't know how you got to be there, or why you were there, but have reason to assume that you fought alongside Steve Rogers to allow a dangerous, unstable assassin to escape being apprehended by the U.S. government. Now, that sounds like just enough to lock you away with, but in addition, we have reason to assume that you are a powered individual operating outside of the Sokovia Accords and thus operating illegally." Ross sat back in his chair, the metal creaking under his weight.

Sweat had started to bead at my temple. The room felt as if it was getting hotter.

"You don't have any evidence, you're just saying that." I stammered.

Ross raised a brow, "Oh? When my men arrived on the scene we were met with irreversible destruction done to German property, the horrible sight of a U.S. Colonel plummeting to his death-" War Machine "and a shock of blue appearing out of mid air, and funny enough, a figure stumbling through onto the scene, that figure in question being you, Miss Ruiz."

I could only gulp in response. Ross had evidence, he knew I was there, knew I was somehow powered, but didn't know exactly how and clearly in his eyes that made me very dangerous. This was seriously bad.

"I will be placing you on a registered index composed of all powered peoples known to the United States government and other private parties, and you will be answering for your crimes...like the other members of your team." Ross folded his arms in front of his chest, his suit bunching up tightly across his stomach.

The good thing was that Ross only mentioned my team. No mention of Peter, no mention of Stark either. Maybe Stark got him out in time. Maybe not everything had gone to shit.

"Now, tell me where Rogers and Barnes are."

I think my surprise was obvious.

"What makes you think I was on their side?" I argued. This chair was too hard, and my lower back was starting to ache in a very uncomfortable way. I tried to be subtle about shifting position.

Ross looked at me in agitation, "Well, Tony Stark didn't object when we brought you into custody."

Of course he didn't.

I scoffed, "I don't know where Rogers and Barnes are, and if I did, I wouldn't tell you."

If it was even possible Ross's mouth turned into a more pronounced frown. He simply looked behind me and hummed low in his throat, and I gasped as the guard tightened his hold on my shoulder. The pulsing pain flared up again aggressively.

"You're gonna torture me if I don't give you answers?" My head was beginning to droop again, but I held it up the best I could "I swear, I don't know where they are." I forced out between clenched teeth.

The guard held his hand down firmly for a couple more seconds, his fingers pressing into the bone before Ross nodded his head tightly.

I let out a great whoosh of breath as soon as the guard loosened up on the pressure.

"Very well," Ross gruffed out "tell me about your powers. What abilities do you have?"

He was asking what kind of threat I posed. Well I wasn't going to tell him, that's damn sure.

I stayed silent, my brooding stare pinned on the man before me.

Then the pain was back. This time it felt like the guard was shoving the inflamed joint even further out of socket. My throat burned from the bile that gurgled up my throat as I let out nonsensical shouts of agony. Tears had begun to leak out of my eyes, and they blurred my vision until all that I could see in front of me was a wall of gray.

"S-stop. Please." I heaved in staggered breaths, my nose was running, and moisture pooled above my lip.

The immediate pain receded but there was still a horrible ache that continued to delve bone deep.

Ross sat quietly for a moment, allowing me to catch my breath, or to let me wallow in my self humiliation.

The others probably didn't cry. They would have stuck it through. God, how could I think I could be on their level, and do what they do.

I tried to wipe my nose on the edge of my good shoulder, but couldn't quite make it work.

"Again, what are your abilities?"

If I answered then they would know how to keep me here. There would be no escape plan, no heroic break out. I had to do it for the others, I couldn't bend under the pressure.

"Fuck you, pinche cabrón!" I spat, surging almost drunkenly from my seat, it was getting harder to concentrate. There were constant painful pulses tingling up and down my right arm.

Ross didn't move an inch, my show of bravado not fazing him in the slightest. "Perhaps then we'll ask your grandmother...Valentina Ruiz?"

The color drained from my face. My heartbeat started to surge in my chest. "Leave her alone, she-she doesn't know anything. I've never told anyone, I swear." I panted, my eyes darting around the room in panic.

They can't go to Nana. She's a liability, and probably the only one in their eyes who could be a problem if I went missing. Knowing Nana, she wouldn't stop until she found me either, not since we spent all those days tracking Mom together, and especially not since we're all we have left for each other.

Not even Peter could sway her on this, why didn't I think of it beforehand. Fuck.

"We'll have to see about that, won't we Miss Ruiz."

True panic flared in my chest.

Ross then stood, folded the manila folder beneath his arm and nodded to the guard behind me.

I choked as a metal collar was placed over my throat, my chest heaving in distress. The click of metal on metal was like a gun shot through the tiny room.

The collar slid beneath the edge of my suit and sat, a shock of cold against the fevered warmth of my neck.

I couldn't breathe.

Ross rapped his knuckles harshly on the table as he stopped next to me. "We'll speak again Miss Ruiz, we've got you under close surveillance, one slip and you get shot with 50k volts." He looked pointedly at the collar and then nodded contently. On his way out he gave a lazy salute, the door let out a soft click as it opened and then I heard Ross's heavy footsteps fade down the hall.

Immediately as the last step was heard the guard behind me pulled me to my feet, and at least had the decency to pull the good shoulder, maybe he'd filled his torture quota for the day.

My head dropped to my chest, half out of exhaustion and half the heavy weight of the collar.

It was humiliating.

They do see me as an animal after all.

And if I don't comply they what? Put me down?

I didn't put up any fight as the guard moved me down darkened corridors and twisted entrances.

He seemed to like that.

His hand was no longer on the top of my back, but was held against the back of my neck. Half of his sweaty palm sliding against my skin as we walked and half warming the cold metal.

A gag made its way up my throat but didn't follow through.

Finally we reached what looked like a massive metal hangar door.

It was huge. The guard flashed a purple ID badge at a well hidden camera in the corner before the door slid open slowly.

Stale damp air flowed through, and brushed my hair back from my face.

I sluggishly dragged my feet forward, but a smile crept on my face as soon as I saw what was inside.

In identical cells lining the walls was my team.

Sam and Scott sat on bare metal beds, but perked up as the door slid open.

Clint stood at once, his forearms braced against the thick glass separating us.

And Wanda sat in a daze, the corner of a dull blanket pulled over her lap.

I offered a small smile and winced as I shrugged my shoulders in defeat.

I gave a massive sigh and then stepped further into the prison.

"Hey guys."


	8. Take a Chance

"Okay, kid, you're gonna have to tie the knot very tight. Are you doing it? Be careful...you don't want to rip the whole arm off while you're at it." Clint's shouts bounced and echoed off the sides of the massive chamber walls.

I was panting, loud huffs of air shot out my nose and sweat started to bead on my forehead.

The dull blanket from the cell was made of a rough wool and irritated the open skin of my wrist.

Trying to pull the blanket as taut as I could, I gripped the edges with one hand, and pulled against the bunched fabric held between my teeth.

About an hour after I was locked in this cell, an hour after the cuffs were removed, the ache in my shoulder was too much to bare any longer.

The asshole guard had unceremoniously shoved me into a neighboring cell, and ripped the restraints off in one go. The blinding pain that soon followed wasn't something I'd shake off anytime soon. It resemembed the pins and needles feeling of when your foot falls asleep but multiplied by one thousand...yeah never want to go through that ever again.

Sam said I passed out, and I guess I did because all I remember is waking up in a heap against a cold metal wall near the toilet in the corner.

I thought it was time to pop this shoulder joint back in place.

Apparently Clint had past experience with DIY emergency medical care, or he was good at projecting false confidence, it didn't really matter, I was ready to do just about anything.

Either I do nothing and my shoulder's fucked up forever, or I try and fix it myself and the arm gets even more fucked up, who knows, in the end maybe it'll be good as new. I thought I'd take those odds.

"If I end up ripping the thing off, please get me a badass metal arm." I said through clenched teeth.

The wool blanket was looped around the back of the metal toilet, and I was crouched next to it, trying not to wobble too much on the balls of my feet.

I held my bad arm close to my stomach, and struggled to tie the ends of the blanket around my limp wrist.

Wrapping, and double wrapping it just in case, the fabric formed a taut line from my lower arm to the back of the toilet.

My arm was braced against my abdomen, and it shook as I tried to hold the tied blanket in place.

"Okay! I did it, now what?" I yelled.

Our cells were spaced out along one wall, and I really wished Clint could somehow see what I was doing instead of having to rely on his one sided guidance.

"Now, slowly start standing up, keep the blanket tight and let your weight pull back on it, don't force it! Hopefully, when you stand the joint will just slip back into the socket."

Hopefully? "You know what you're doing, right?" I asked sceptically.

Clint was silent for a moment, "Yeah, in theory."

"Great, that's just great."

I swayed back and forth on my heels. This is going to hurt. Deep breath, come on I can do this.

"Come on, Lena. Slow and steady, you got this." Sam said.

Leaning backwards slightly I tested the pull on the blanket, and took three deep breaths before rocking forward and gradually attempting to stand.

The pulling strain wasn't an explosion of agony like I thought it was going to be. It started as a slight ache flowing up my arm before transforming into a tight spring of pain which radiated from my fingertips to my clenched jaw.

I continued to rise in one slow fluid motion. The blanket pulled my arm forward in a steady harsh grip, but I didn't stop, not when it was so close to being fixed.

Fast exhales were moving through my nose, and I kept my eyes trained on the taut strip of fabric in front of me.

I had to keep it tight, maintaining the pressure was important if I wanted to jerk the joint back into place.

My knees were unbent at this point, and the stretching feel of the arm was starting to set my teeth on edge.

I never thought I'd have to rely on myself to fix something like this.

Skinned knees and broken fingers were a quick fix, something I knew I could handle. But this, this was different. If I was back home, this probably would've been solved after one trip to Urgent Care, or Nana would have shoved the shoulder back in place herself.

I could feel the joint moving. It was beginning to shift from the continual pressure against it.

"Come on, come on, come on." I chanted through my teeth. The whole arm seemed to be pounding in time with my heartbeat. My back was hunched over, the arm not fully straightened just yet. I tossed my head back trying to move the hair out of my eyes, and checked on the taut blanket.

The rough edges tied against my wrist were beginning to slip.

Shit. The joint was moving under my skin, if I let the fabric go loose then the shoulder would snap back out of place.

I just had to hold it a couple more seconds. Time to speed this process up.

"Is it working?" Clint called out hopefully. If I could see him I'm sure he'd be pacing the length of his cell.

"Uh-yeah, yeah-the blanket might be slipping a bit." My voice squeaked, I couldn't take my eyes off the loosening fabric, I've got to do something fast. "I-I think I'm just going to yank it."

There was a stunned beat of silence, "I definitely think you should not do that." Sam stated.

"Just untie the blanket and try it again in a couple minutes" Urged Clint, he sounded on a little nervous.

I huffed in irritation, "I want this shit fixed now guys, yeah...I'm just gonna yank it really hard."

Both of them started complaining at once, their voices overlapping in the large space.

"I'm doing it!" I called out.

"Lena-"

"Wait! Don't -"

Bracing my feet against the hard ground, I rotated my wrist once, the fabric would hold for one more tug, it had to. Deep breath, I closed my eyes and turned my face away in a grimace.

Here goes nothing.

Without thinking too much about it, I stood all the way up in one great rush.

There was a searing pain that made me cry out, a rough grating in my shoulder and then the shock of a pop .

Immediately the aching pain faded. The numbness of my injured arm receding away like it hadn't been pure agony not hours ago.

I tried to focus on making my breathing stable, the ramped up adrenaline from the moment making my head swoon.

My face was still turned away and I took the lessened pain as a sign that the arm wasn't totally mangled.

"What happened? Did the arm get ripped off?" Scott called out, "because I think the metal arm idea was a good call. I'm on board with it."

Scoffing, I turned my face toward the injured shoulder.

The arm was still attached to my body, thankfully.

There was a red ring around my wrist from where the blanket had been tied, but other than that everything seemed okay.

"In all the movies they put the arm in a sling...so I'm gonna do that."

Trying not to jostle anything, I tugged on the blanket and it spooled at my feet in a small pile.

I didn't want to try and move the shoulder too much, but I carefully shifted it into position against my stomach.

The pain had lessened, but the entire arm felt like a giant bruise.

I had to use my teeth again to tighten the blanket around my elbow and loop it over my left shoulder.

The moment I'd stood up and felt that resounding pop I had known the shoulder was fixed. Sure, it might take a while to heal, and maybe there will be a couple of problems with maintaining the full movement, but there was less pain, and that was enough.

It was also a giant 'fuck you Secretary Ross'.

Once I felt that the sling was held snug against my body, I plopped down onto the bed.

The frenzied paranoia about my shoulder had evaporated and left behind a withered tiredness.

I scrubbed at my eyes with the back of my unbound hand, and they blurred for a moment before focusing on the cell.

I'd been less than impressed by our little prison cells. Bland walls, one toilet, a rickety bed, and a wool blanket. That was all.

The bed was hard under my thighs, and equally as cold.

The entire cell was a dampening cold. One step into the cell was enough to give me goosebumps and all I was given were blue slacks, a thin pullover, and a laughable attempt at an insulated shirt.

Sweat had dried to the back of my neck and seemed to be causing a chill to set into my bones.

I'd barely been able to get the prison uniform on. I couldn't quite get the long sleeve over the shoulder, but the blue tee was baggy enough that it only caused a bit of discomfort. Stark's suit had slipped off without a problem. No idea where that went. Somebody had come to collect it shortly after I'd been dumped into the cell. Honestly, who knows if I'll ever see that thing again. It would've been nice...I'd bet good money that that thing has a built in heater.

I drummed my fingernails against the metal frame beneath me, "Whew, that was exhausting." I attempted to lay back onto the bed but it was too uncomfortable. The firm metal under my back made my shoulder throb. Sitting up with a groan, I leant back against the cool wall, my feet barely hanging off the edge of the bed, "well...that probably took up a big chunk of time, what's next on our 'prison to do list'?"

"Lena, we've only been in here for an hour and a half." Clint said.

My eyes bugged out, "What!" I shrieked, my head making a dull thud against the wall behind me. "An hour and a half, are you kidding me? That felt like at least four hours."

"Nah, I know what four hours in prison feels like, this is definitely an hour and a half prison time denial." Scott's voice rang out.

I groaned into my hand, rubbing at the spot between my eyes in agitation.

We've only been in this ocean prison for roughly two hours then.

Individually they interrogated us, and then we were locked up, and then I pouted for a while and now my shoulder's fixed. All of that in the span of two hours. I guess it sounds plausible.

The initial tiredness from the un-dislocation of my shoulder continued to hold me down, my eyes drooping every so often.

The chamber was very quiet. When nobody was talking, there was a slight drip drip drip that echoed around the hall. Glancing at the toilet in trepidation, I tried not to think about the dripping water more than I had to.

I had to admit it was hard not being able to see the others in here with me. If the silence went on for too long the anxiety and fear would creep in. Their presence grounded me. Scott and Clint were both pretty talkative, I think they knew I needed it. Sam was always there to offer insight, but he was quiet, brooding, thinking, I'm not sure. And Wanda...she hadn't said a word. The small glimpse I caught of her before the guard shoved me forward was seared into my mind. Wanda, lost, marooned in a corner of the cell, her arms wrapped around her body, her sharp gaze tracking me as I'd entered the chamber, and the gleam of a metal collar around her neck.

I shuddered just to think of it.

At least we were together.

I could only handle the lonesome quiet for so long, " So...did all of you get the scary stare down from Ross earlier, or was that just me?" My elbow itched under the wool sling, but it was hard to reach in and get to it without messing up the tied knot.

"Oh, yeah." Sam piped in. "Where's Rogers, where's Barnes, and all that."

"Okay good...and you didn't tell them anything right?" I said, picking at the split skin on my bottom lip.

"No, of course not."

I nodded to myself. Keeping Ross away from Steve and Bucky was the main issue. We couldn't let him get anywhere near them. Knowing that Ross was unaware of their mission did nothing to stop the worry pooling in my gut.

"Did they-do you think they made it? Steve and Bucky?" I said, my voice sounding timid even to my own ears. I didn't want to think of the other outcome.

Clint was the one who answered, "They did. We gotta believe they did. If not...well then at least we know we did what was right."

I hummed in agreement.

Steve and Bucky made it out, they had to.

Clint, Scott, Sam, Wanda and I were locked in here. We'd put everything on the line to get them that far, and I knew that I trusted them to see it through, but it was torture not knowing if they really made it or not.

I was in prison. Imprisoned for illegal activities against the American government. 22 years old and in prison.

I knew I had made the right call. I knew that, but the panic and doubt shot through my brain like live electricity.

What if we never got out? What if I was stuck here forever?

What if Steve and Bucky were shot down, the quinjet swallowed by the churning ocean, or lost in a Siberian blizzard?

Did Peter even make it out? No stop, don't think about Peter, don't do this to yourself.

Peter got out, he had to.

My eyes were clenched shut against the onslaught of images. Peter left in Germany. Peter stuck with Stark. Peter in chains. Peter strung up like a criminal. Ross's roughened hand clasped down on Peter's shoulder. A boyish gasp of pain. Stop. Brown eyes turned to liquid, tears streaking down pink cheeks.

My breathing had intensified. My fingers scrambled against the metal of the bed frame, the scratching sensation making my jaw twitch.

I can't breathe.

Subconsciously I could hear myself trying to rake in ragged breaths.

Was I having a panic attack?

Calm down, Lena. Calm down.

I could hear Sam from the other cell, he was trying to help. "Breathe in, and out. There you go. It's okay. We're here. Lena, you're not alone in this."

I'm not alone.

Peter made it out.

Steve and Bucky made it out.

We'll get out of here eventually.

Oh, Nana I miss you so much.

"Sam, I-I can't breathe." I stuttered.

My left hand had reached up to claw at my throat, my nose was running.

Horrible images were flitting through my brain, and I didn't think I had the strength to stop them.

A soft voice cut through the panic, "Lena, breathe. It will be alright. Everything will be okay."

Wanda?

"There you go, another, yes, breathe."

Her voice lilted through the space, wrapping around me in a warm embrace.

Gradually I felt my breathing regulate. No longer was I trying to gasp for breath, but it I was concentrating on each inhale and exhale I produced.

After a couple of minutes, the panic was replaced with embarrassment.

I wiped a finger under my eyes, and swiped at my running nose.

"I-I'm so sorry guys, I don't know what happened. One moment I was fine, and then I-I just flipped out." I stammered. Shifting my weight, the coolness of the metal walls helped to soothe the jittery feeling in my body, and wash away the redness that probably covered my cheeks.

"What happened?" Clint asked softly.

I sighed, "I don't know. I-I was thinking about Steve and Bucky and their mission, and then I started thinking about Pe-my friend, and then it went on to my grandma, and-" Trying not to cry, I swallowed the choked sobs making their way up my throat. "-they don't know where I am, and I don't know where they are...I'm so scared."

Only the sounds of my small sniffles filled the chamber.

"Kid-Lena, it's okay to be worried, we're all worried here. We've got people that we left behind who are probably worrying about us too. We've got your back, you're not alone here."

Clint sounded concerned, his voice wobbling faintly.

"Yeah, you've got us. We're a team." Scott added.

Even Sam went on to add his say, "It'll be tough, but we'll get through it."

Although Wanda didn't say anything else, I could tell she felt the same. Her support radiated warmth even in the cold depths of this prison.

To think I'd only known these people for a day, and yet I could feel that we were going to be good friends for a long time. I've got their back, and they've got mine.

"Thanks guys, this really means a lot coming from you all. I know we just met, which is...crazy, but now we're friends and you're stuck with me."

Chuckles reached my ears from the teammates around me.

My head leaned back against the cold wall, and the small tug of a smile on my lips pulled at the still tender cut on my cheek, but it didn't matter.

From jumping between the shoulder dislocation and then to the panic attack I was finally feeling the full effects of the exhaustion setting in. The used adrenaline leaked from my body in one giant sweep, I mumbled something about taking a nap before I drowned out the surrounding noises.

Like a large wave it settled over my body. Slowly my eyes began to droop, my head going back to lean against the cell wall, and my body becoming loose and pliant.

I'll just close my eyes for a second, just to get my energy back up.

The cell was cold, but my body felt warm, almost feverish.

A low murmur of voices played in the background, but I couldn't focus just then.

Everything was going to be fine. Clint said so, and Sam did too.

Now I knew that if I ever started thinking and spiraling like that again then they'd be there to bring me back.

Peter was fine, he's probably back home right now worrying about homework with Ned or something.

Nana is probably worried, but she can make do, she's so strong.

My eyes fluttered closed at last with a final sigh leaving my lips.

God, I hope Steve and Bucky were safe.

Wherever they were, at least they had each other.

The stir of an engine was roaring in my ears.

The cockpit of the plane was dark, shadows were thrown across the tight space. I could see through the front windows that we were high in the clouds. Wisps of vapor parted around the nose of the aircraft and large water droplets formed and shaped against the glass.

There was a red beacon blinking on the console.

Movement caught my eye. A door was left open in the back of the cockpit. The door lead to the rest of the plane, the passenger quarters.

It was a large vessel, military grade? No, a jet. High-tech. Kind of familiar.

The doorway was packed tight between oxygen masks and small compartments but once I had made up my mind to move beyond it, I suddenly found myself in a much more open area.

Seats lined the sides of the cabin.

What looked like medical supplies were strewn across the floor.

Bandages, antiseptic wipes, inhaler.

There, in the corner of my eye, movement.

It surprised me, the sudden appearance of the man. As if he had moved out of the shadows.

Steve?

It was Steve!

I attempted to call out to him, but nothing happened. No sound was heard.

Steve looked tired. There were purple bruises fanning over the side of his face, and he held a hand steady across his abdomen.

Were the medical supplies for him?

He didn't see me.

His helmet was off, and his hair was plastered to his skull.

His movements almost seemed robotic, but were laced in tension.

Barely glancing at the mess on the floor he moved directly to the empty seats on the opposite wall which were covered in darkness.

I almost missed it, but the seats weren't empty after all.

A figure was strewn out in the blackness, their limbs melded into the shadows.

The sudden turn of their face revealed the destruction in the dim light of the cabin.

It was Bucky.

There was crusted blood upon his upper lip, it ran down across his chin.

He too sported blossoming bruises across his drawn face.

Steve stiffly knelt next to the bloodied body of his best friend.

His hands were shaking, from adrenaline, exhaustion, fear… I had no idea.

Steve placed a palm against the roughened tactical vest on Bucky's chest, and I felt minute tension lessen in the space as his hand began to move up and down with the pattern of Bucky's breathing .

Bucky's eyes were trained on the blonde head bowed before him.

"Oh god, Buck-" Steve murmured, almost too low to pick up.

The pale outline of Bucky's face held position, but his tortured eyes drank in the image before him.

He coughed wetly "I'm okay, Steve." He rasped.

Steve shuddered out a breath, "I-I don't know- I- the medical supplies aren't enough, I can't -we're going to need help."

Bucky exhaled, the movement of his chest under Steve's palm was calming, mesmerizing in the moment.

"I know." He stopped for a moment, "It doesn't hurt. I've been through worse, it'll be okay."

Steve made a pained sound, and his eyes leapt up and locked on Bucky's arm.

I hadn't noticed before but the sight made me gasp.

Bucky's arm was gone.

Sizzling wires raged in a messy bundle on what was left of it.

The sight sent a rush of anger down my back, and I wanted to avert my eyes but I couldn't.

I tried to call out to them, I thought I could help, but again nothing left my lips.

Steve eye's stayed glued to the stump, the blue irises burning black in the dimming light.

He opened his mouth looking as if he was about to yell, scream, punch something but thought better of it and shifted his gaze toward the floor.

A dusty roll of bandages was crushed under the heel of his boot.

"Nat has a safe house. We can regroup. She knows more-she can help, Buck."

Bucky let out a soft sigh, and nodded his head imperceptibly.

Almost at once Steve stood, his palm lingering on Bucky's chest, but then tore his gaze away and stormed through the cabin.

The door to the cockpit crashed open in an explosion of sound.

I roared to life with a massive gasp.

My head was pounding, and my eyes were practically rolling in their sockets.

What had I just seen?

Steve and Bucky..but I'd never seen them like that, I don't remember ever seeing that before.

The dream was so vivid. Unrealistically vivid. I couldn't have come up with that all alone.

Was it even a dream to begin with?

Think Lena come on.

I stood and began to pace the length of my cell.

Remember what happened before I went to sleep.

I was tired. Exhausted even.

The sling on my shoulder was still holding up, and the ache that was present still radiated throughout my arm.

I had a panic attack. I remember that.

I was worried about Steve and Bucky.

We didn't know if they had made it, or where they were, if they were safe.

I fell asleep...thinking about them. About where they were.

My head shot up in amazement.

No, it couldn't be.

"Guys!" I screamed, racing to the edge of the cell.

I placed my palms against the thick glass, straining to see the others.

"GUYS!" My voice echoed through the chamber.

There was a shuffle from the other side.

"What!?"

"Uh-what happened?"

"Lena?"

There was a chorus of replies.

I tried to calm down, but I was too excited, practically bouncing on my feet. "Okay, before you freak, just hear me out."

My palms were beginning to sweat against the tempered glass.

"So I took a nap, and I fell asleep thinking about where Steve and Bucky were, and then I fucking saw them." I squealed, "It was like a dream, but I knew it was real! They-they're okay. I saw them!"

There was stunned silence from the others. I was too ecstatic to even think about Ross and his goons listening in. I could deal with that later.

"...you saw Cap and Barnes?" Sam sounded skeptical.

"Yes!"

"...and they're okay."

"Holy shit, Sam. Yes, alright?" I pounded one fist against the glass, why weren't they getting this? It's a breakthrough.

"Maybe, just maybe, when I use my powers, like how I envision where I want to go, I can envision people too. Maybe, since I know the person...I could just portal straight to them!" I shouted.

Damn Ross and his agendas, I was excited about this.

Clint was the one who responded this time. "I don't know, Lena. How do you know what you saw was real?"

That stopped me short, "Look, I don't really know, but I swear it felt real. I couldn't have dreamt that."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but that actually makes sense." Scott said, "If she thinks about where she can portal, and it's probably easier when she's been to the place or is familiar with it...then why can't she just pop in on people too. Maybe while you were taking a power nap your subconscious made a halfway portal bond thing with Captain Rogers, and then you woke up."

A smile felt its way onto my face. I was practically jumping with excitement.

"I'm gonna try it again."

Both and Clint and Sam spoke up.

"Maybe you should wait-"

"Take it slow-"

I blocked it out and plopped down on my bed once more.

My fingers messaged into my temples.

Come on, Lena concentrate.

This time I pictured Peter in my mind.

Holding the image of his face in my head I concentrated all my power on trying to see him.

Don't think about where you are, just picture Peter. Find Peter.

Slowly, as if it was a mirage, and image began to appear.

Peter sat in a large office chair.

It swiveled back and forth under his weight as he pushed off from one side of the small desk to the other.

In his hand was wadded piece of fabric. He'd toss it into the air and watch it flit back into his open palm.

Was that my bandana?

It was black, and seemed stiff in its descent. Maybe it was still covered in my blood from the fight.

The cut on my cheek was barely a bother anymore, since the dislocated shoulder thing definitely eclipsed it.

Peter's hair was disheveled and he had darkened circles under his eyes.

Oh, Pete.

He sighed before shooting a web out and zapping the floating banda to the purple wall in front of him.

Was he in my bedroom?

He was.

The bed looked slept in, and the floor was cleaner than usual.

Nana probably cleaned it. What was Peter doing there?

Suddenly the door flew open. Nana rushed in, my laptop clutched in her hands.

She too looked tired. Her usually manicured bun was messy, and loops of greying hair fell out of the coils.

Peter straightened in the chair immediately and moved over to make room for the computer on the desk.

"Mrs. Ruiz-"

Nana shushed him, and slapped the computer onto the desks surface "Mira, I found something. There were images taken off a phone, does this look like Magdalena?"

The images were blurry at best, but they were the right images.

Somehow, someone had gotten to the battlefield in Germany and now had photographic evidence.

I thought I could make out my unconscious form being carried by two men. They were headed toward the hangar bay, where the prison aircraft was probably stored.

Peter's face came alive. "Yes! That's her. She was wearing the suit made for her. Look, see right here?" He pointed to the image again.

Nana squinted her eyes at it, a grin tugging at her lips.

"Stark, told you nothing about Lena and now we're going to find her, mijo." She pulled out a pad of paper, a pencil held in her shaky hand, "I think there's a name on the uniform of one of those men, or a symbol, can you see if you can make it out?"

Peter got closer to the screen, and nodded.

"I've sent out emails to all of the people, anyone who had a picture." Nana had a determined look in her eyes. "We'll find her, I know we will."

My eyes flew open in shock.

Oh, this was bad.

My hands were tightly wringing in my lap.

Nana and Peter were trying to follow my trail, and it would lead them straight to Ross.

They couldn't get mixed up in this, I had to stop it.

It would be bad enough if Nana got caught by Ross, but...Peter.

Panic was crawling up my throat.

If Ross found Peter then there was no going back.

There'd be a cell with his name on it.

The only thing that calmed me down was that Ross didn't know about Peter. I hoped that Stark hadn't said anything about him, or about the team he had assembled, but I could never know.

Once Peter caught Ross's eye, he'd slip up. He'd be on the accords for sure.

My heart pounded in my chest.

Was Peter already on the accords? Did Stark sign his name on the dotted line?

He might have.

I stood shakily.

"Clint, how long do you think I have before Ross shows up?"

"I'd guess around five minutes tops, I'm sure his people heard the whole conversation, but there's no knowing if they got it to him immediately or not."

My chin jutted out in determination.

"I saw my Nana and Pe- my friend. They're trying to find me, and I gotta stop them. They shouldn't pull on this thread, they don't know what they're getting themselves into."

My hair was a tangled mess and I tried to shove it further behind my ears.

"I-I can just send them a quick message, if I can get in contact with them then-"

"Lena, are you sure this is the right decision? Ross will have it on tape, he'll definitely know what you can do."

I couldn't make a giant portal. My shoulder was still incapacitated, and I needed my arms to make something big enough to walk through.

But..maybe I could make a small version of one.

I still had the one hand.

Clenching my hand into a fist, I tried to picture what I wanted to see.

Hopefully the mini portal would spring to life in my palm.

I had to try. If I could just warn them, tell them to drop it then it would be enough.

"It is the right decision." Blue energy started to pulse from between my fingers.

"What if this doesn't go the way you think it will? What if they're safe?" Sam stated.

The blue electricity was hot in my hand, the hairs along my arm raising from the radiated power.

"I can't take that chance."


End file.
